War With Dragons
by Soccergeek4jc
Summary: This is a story about the first Eragon and his troubles. The elves have won another battle, but the elf-dragon war is still far from over. Eragon has been sent on a urgent mission to discover where the dragons are hiding. Rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Note that this story is not about Eragon Shadeslayer, but the First Eragon. I do not own Eragon, so this story kind of isn't mine, but whatever. Enjoy, and please review. This is chapter one :P**

Eragon gazed forlornly out over the battlefield.

"This war had better end soon or else there will be nothing left of us or of the dragons," he thought sadly, scavenging a sword from an old friend he had known. He was now dead, killed by the war that dumb boy had started. "If Logan hadn't hunted down that one dragon, none of this would've happened." Eragon was unconsciously kicking dragon parts all over in his fury. He desperately wished Logan hadn't been such a… well, such a jerk.

The war between the elves and the dragons had lasted for far too long, of that Eragon was sure. The elves and dragons alike would be facing extinction if nothing changed in the next year; if the war didn't come to an end. Just two years ago they had both been thriving, in the prime of their time. Now all the numbers were dwindling to ominously low numbers.

Something needed to change.

At the beginning of the war the elves had seemed to be winning; now no one could be sure. Eragon slowed his thoughts and began to intake as much air as possible for a few seconds. He calmed down, and then resumed his scavenging. It made him sick to do this, but someone had to do it, and it might as well be him as anyone else.

Eragon didn't really fight, he just was an advisor concerning battle tactics and was a scout. He often did lots of clean up work. He was a minor magician, but that was a secret he kept to himself for a few reasons.

First of all, magicians were the first to go and die in battle. Secondly, they had the most tiring job of healing wounded warriors. Thirdly, it just wasn't worth wasting himself.

Looking around at all the wreckage though, Eragon wasn't so confident in his decision about volunteering as a magician. It didn't matter _that_ much, if not only because he had sworn he wouldn't fulfill such a role in this particular war. He just wanted to _survive_, it didn't matter how.

He gazed down and found himself gathering another sword of another close friend. Sorrow welled up inside him, as he recognized her for who she was, not a close friend, but a best friend, one he might have mated if the circumstances had been kinder. Swearing angrily at all the causes of this war, he set to digging a hole in the ground as a grave.

The tears came openly now, tears of anger, tears of hate, tears of pain and suffering. Eragon made no move to wipe them; he just kept at his work. When the grave was done, he gently laid his friend in the dirt. He placed her sword in her hands, and folded those over her chest. Finishing his work, he stalked back to camp.

That night he was in laying his tent, thinking. Thinking about the times before this cursed war. Thinking about the times ahead. What ifs poured down on him from all sides, and he felt as though he might drown.

Realizing he wasn'tgoing to get any rest this way, he decided to go on a walk. It was night, sure, and the dragons might have sent some sort of ambush to kill as many as possible, sure, but that didn't really matter anymore. This war was going to have to be won by brains, not brawn.

Sighing, Eragon dressed into warmer clothes, and then ambled out of his wool tent. He dejectedly walked towards the now sluggish river, wishing for the birds to sing again, but all was silent. He wandered down towards what had, just this morning, been forest. With growing frustration he looked at the fallen trees. Stupid Logan! Stupid, stupid, stupid! He was dead now, but the war still raged on.

If only that idiot had stayed his bow.

If only the elves had understood that Logan deserved his death.

If only the elves hadn't been so hasty to strike back.

If only…

"I am Eragon. Eragon. Eragon. My name is Eragon. That is who I am. The only Eragon. The first and last of my time." Eragon took a shuddering breath, still screaming at himself inside his head. No matter what, he was always Eragon. That was one thing he could always believe, no matter what happened. He always repeated his name to himself when he was in a state of confusion, and it would calm him as it calmed him now. His thoughts began to slowly roam elsewhere, and soon he found himself in a foreign world where there was no war.

Peace reigned in this world, eternal peace, peace and tranquility forever and ever. Oh how he longed to be there!

But he couldn't go there.

He was here.

Not there.

'There' didn't even exist for all he knew.

And he knew quite a bit.

And quite a bit told him this war had to end for the good of all.

But _how?_

A disturbance behind Eragon told him he was not alone in the night.

Whirling around, he surveyed his surroundings tensely. He saw no one, but instinct said otherwise, so he stayed alert and silent.

Minutes passed relentlessly but still the sense of another soul would not leave. Finally Eragon spoke out quietly:

"Who are you and what do you want with me?"

The grass bent ever so slightly, and a female musical voice said quietly,

"I have followed you on silver wings. You are distressed and know a way to save us all." The voice paused, and then went on, even more quietly, saying, "All you have loved has been torn from you, and yet you fight on. That is honorable, and you are worthy of a better life."

"Such a life no longer exists, however. And I'm sorry, but I do not know the way to save the elves, though with all my heart I truly wish I could."

"You know." The voice was dead serious, and dead quiet. "Believe me, you know…" The voice quavered for an instant, then faded away, whispering, "You know, you just have to find that out."

Eragon lashed out to his right, and almost caught the sleeve of the escaping elf, but she was too quick for him. She bounded off into the night, hair streaming behind her.

Sitting down, Eragon pondered her words, and finally discarded them for another time. He gratefully discovered he was tired, and so quickly moved to his tent, plopped down on his bed and fell into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! This is chapter two of the story. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I have writing. Please review. :)** **BTW:Sorry it's so short, but I have the next one well on the way **

The bright light shone down into Eragon's tent the next morning, warming him up 'Quite nicely,' as he thought of it. The events of the previous day seemed less important now that something good was happening. Sure, he understood nothing of what the maiden had told him last night, but that mattered less now. Now the sun mattered a whole lot, and it was a very pleasant concept, unlike the torments of yesterday.

Unfortunately for Eragon that morning, the sun had a circuit to follow, and it followed it all too quickly away from Eragon's body. Slightly grumpy, Eragon got up and washed his face, then had a hasty breakfast of eggs and toast. Wishing he had a steed, he dashed off to do what duties awaited him.

The day passed quickly and without many interesting incidents. Eragons mind kept on returning to his experience on the river, and he kept on pondering what it could mean. Unfortunately for him, he also kept on coming up with blank answers to all of his vivid questions. He was rather frustrated by the time he had completed all of his work.

"I _need_ to do something about this war… but what can I, a lone elf, do against so many dragons? I know this war can't be won by strength alone, but I can't see how else to end it!" Eragon paced in his tent, walking in a small circle around his bed which he had positioned in the center. "And that lady, she said _I_ knew how to save the elves, but I don't!" Freezing mid-stride, Eragon gasped, "Or maybe I do." Resuming his frenzied pacing, he discarded the thought as another ill-placed thought of his overreacting imagination. "And then there's that blasted mission of mine. I really should carry it out quickly so I can tell Captain Vladime what he wants to know. It's no good tempering with his impatience, is there now?" Without missing a beat, Eragon stepped out of his pacing ring and grabbed a bottle of faelnirv, his thin sword, and his longbow. "I will begin tonight."

***********

The night came quickly, and Eragon blended well with the black. According to Vladime, the mission was simple. He just had to track a dragon back to a dragon lair.

"_Very _simple," Eragon grumbled to himself, stealthily moving towards the two-day-old battlefield. There was bound to be some sort of hint as to which direction he should go on the ground somewhere. Perhaps he would find a survivor he could force to help him. "Although," he thought, "surviving dragons will probably guard the necessary information with their lives, and they are far stronger than me. However," he sourly noted to himself, "the chances of me finding a way to the dragons' hideout is very slim. At least not now. After another battle, maybe, sure, but certainly not now."

Eragon inched around another dead dragon, surprised at his own wariness. The battle was over; he shouldn't have to worry about anything for now. But still… it was better to be safe than sorry. And besides, he was supposed to be tracking a dragon.

"Right. Where am I supposed to find a live dragon among the dead?" It was a rhetorical question, but Eragon didn't know where else to start.

Slowly but surely, Eragon made his way across the plain, examining everything that could possibly give him a clue to the whereabouts of the dragon base. Unfortunately, there was nothing, absolutely nothing on the entire battlefield that could help Eragon on his mission.

Dawn was nearing quickly, and Eragon began to despair. Nothing, not even a scratch in the dirt had given Eragon a clue as to the placement of the dragon's nests.

Angry and frustrated, Eragon kicked at a broken sword hilt and watched as it bounced away. A sudden rustling noise brought his attention to what he had presumed to be a hill which was now moving. It leapt up; its grass flashed out and began to beat at the air steadily. With wonder, Eragon realized it was not a hill, but a dragon. Why it was here, Eragon cared not. If he followed it to wherever it went, he would have a good chance of finding the nest, and then, upon returning, his mission would be fulfilled and he would be able to go beck to trying to answer that one question.

With his hope renewed, Eragon dropped to his fours, keeping his eyes upon the green dragon. He crawled for a time until he was certain the dragon would not pay him any heed, and then he got up and began to run, having a hard time keeping up. The dragon was clearly specially trained to fly quickly, and even though Eragon was the fastest scout he knew of, even he could not match the mighty dragon. He kept it within his sight, however, and was able to track it until the dawn.

The sun's rays grasped at the remaining night and tore it down, bringing on morn. The dragon dipped out of the sky and rocketed to the ground. Eragon threw himself into the grass, hoping he had not been noticed. The dragon landed with a loud thud, looked around alertly and then coiled up to sleep.

Eragon snuck up with fascination; he hadn't ever seen a dragon this calm and peaceful, and had never seen a dragon this close either. So, despite his weariness, he crept closer and closer until he felt it would be suicide to go further. Awe and wonder welled up in him, and he wondered what had ever come over Logan to hunt one of these majestic creatures.

Such were the thoughts of Eragon as he dozed off next to the magnificent reptile, staying awake enough so that if the dragon stirred he would be awakened so he might continue the chase.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's Chapter 3, and Chapter 4 is on the way! Please read and review!**

Fortunately for Eragon, the dragon slept for a long time, so he was able to regenerate all of the energy he had lost while chasing the dragon here. It was a little after noon when the dragon took off again, and Eragon was prepared for it.

He took a swig of faelnirv and ran through the trees that were beginning to take over the land. He tried to stay silent, lest he should bring the dragon's attention upon him; something common sense told him was a _bad_ idea.

The dragon flew on through the day, flying on and on through the now dense forest. Eragon had a hard time seeing the dragon through the leafy roof of the forest, but he managed to keep it in his sight for the day.

Dusk advanced rapidly, and with it came a dark blackness. Eragon had little trouble keeping an eye on the dragon in the moonlight, as its scales glittered like a diamond mine with a candle inside, but he did have a little trouble keeping his footing.

Tree roots popped up at random, Eragon wasn't paying attention, so engulfed was he with the mighty lizard he was chasing, so frankly, he tripped a whole lot. To be precise, he tripped about every third step, but still he pressed on.

The mindless rhythm of his feet, even with the jerks he made upon stumbling over a root, placed him in a state where all of his thoughts jumbled together in a meaningless mass of individual thoughts, that, coupled with the fact Eragon was chasing a dragon, caused him to get all angry at random people.

"Why did Logan want to hunt a dragon? What ever made him think about hunting one of these magical creatures? And why oh why did we elves have to pay back for Logan's life? He was a wretch in the first place!"

Eragon thought angrily about the beginning of the war, how it had happened, and who had suggested what course of action. He also began to brood over the happiness before the war, the joy, the peace. It put him in a sour mood, and twice Eragon thought of abandoning his chase and calling a truce between the races. But twice as Eragon thought of such methods, twice Eragon remembered the words of the maiden by the river:

"You know the way to save us all,"

And he was sure that calling a truce would not save elves, only prolong its existence until the next war began. No, a truce was not the answer.

But if a truce was not the answer, then what was?

Shaking such disturbing thoughts from his head, Eragon tried to think of more pleasant topics.

"But what's left to think about?" thumping away, Eragon pondered the question, wishing the dragon would stop for a break so he could get some food. "I mean, seriously, I'm an elf, I have to eat, I'm starving, and this war has stripped all purpose from me, and argh, bla-bla-bla. This is getting me nowhere, and I want to go somewhere. I want to save my people. I _want_, but can't have! And boy oh boy am I rambling nonsense." At this, Eragon grinned. He _was_ rambling nonsense, but at least it occupied the hours he would have to run, or be thinking of worse things.

To Eragon's delight, the dragon landed a little more than an hour later, curled up and promptly fell asleep. Eragon, however, ate a full meal, and then dozed off for the next few hours that the dragon slept through.

The dragon took off and Eragon pursued him. They ran for another six hours before the forest began to thin again, and grassy, rolling hills appeared.

This was far more dangerous on Eragons behalf than running through the forest. For all of the roots he had tripped on before, now Eragon faced the chance of the dragon spotting him and attacking, killing and possibly eating him. Whereas the forest had provided cover for Eragon, he was now defenseless and at the mercy of fate.

"And indeed merciless fate is." Eragon thought grumpily after having to make himself invisible for the thirtieth* time in order to avoid being massacred.

However perilous the foothills were, Eragon managed to make it through them rather unscathed and still full of energy. He was so engrossed with keeping his eyes on the dragon, he nearly ran into a cliff, his destination.

Looking up, Eragon saw that the rock had no handholds or crevices, and so it would be impossible to climb. Unless there was another way… like perhaps on the other side of the structure?

"There had better be a way up there, because otherwise this expedition was for naught." Eragon muttered sourly, crouching in hopes of _not_ being seen by the dragons that were bound to be patrolling.

Oh yes, there had better be a way to the top.

And Eragon was going to find it, no matter what it took.

"And take it all of me, then so be it." Eragon grinned grimly.

_This _was where he belonged.

_Before_ the scene of action, doing something that wouldn't matter to him, but would matter to the rest of the world.

_He_ could do this.

_He_ had nothing to lose.

_He_ was a dragon's worst enemy, no matter _how_ magnificent they were.

And so he grinned grimly.

He waited underneath the cliff for night when he could search without that much worry of a dragon seeing and frying him. Then, as night came, fully rested and totally ready to do exactly what had been asked of him, he got up and began to run underneath the cliff, looking for so much as even a crack in the smooth surface.

Running with his hand against the granite wall, he kept his eyes peeled for any infirmity in the cliff, no matter how small. Any crease in the wall could be used to his advantage, but alas for him, there were none he could discern.

Undeterred, he ran onward, trying to think of how to get an elven army up the walls if no infirmities existed on this natural monument. If they used magic, they would have to leave the spell-casters on the ground as they lifted the army up.

"That doesn't sound too effective to me," noted Eragon, looking even harder as the moon hid itself behind the clouds.

His hand fell into space and then hit something hard. Eragon jerked backwards, and took a look at what his hand had found for him. To his eyes, it looked like sheer rock, but his hand was clearly not on the surface. In fact, it looked as though it was embedded in the rock.

Amazed, Eragon slowly moved his hand further, and discovered more space. He moved his hand around some more, and discovered a hole about two strides wide and three tall.

Pulling himself together, he took a breath and plunged into the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Very Sorry it took so long! I had another project which caused me to be unable to work on this at all for over a month. I hope no hard feelings :P Read well!**

The hardest thing about running into a wall that isn't there is your brain. Simply because you know that the wall isn't there and you know it won't do you any harm, your brain seems to contradict this information you know, trying to worm doubt in so you don't whack yourself in the head.

The worst of course, is the fact that you _see_ the rock rushing at your head and you think, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH I'M GONNA DIE, I'M GONNA DIE, I'M GONNA _DIE,"_ and then you run through and nothing happens and you wonder why the heck you were worried in the first place.

This is what happened to Eragon.

He of course, as an elf, had the self control to not cover his face and not blink as he ran through, but the symptoms were about the same. When he made it through the fake wall, he began to think about how to find the place again without leading the elf-army half way around the monument, and without randomly putting your hand on the wall.

"I suppose I should really make sure this goes where I think it does, shouldn't I?" Eragon thought to himself, putting away the thoughts of the future and focusing on the actions of the present.

He began running up a narrow path that was rutted and windy. Despite all the trouble, he managed to make his way to through the tunnel in record time. He warily stuck his head out, looking around for any dragon patrols.

A small gasp loosed itself from his mouth as he looked around. This wasn't just the dragons lair… this was their nesting place, where they grew up, mated, and devised plans. If the elves were to attack this place…

"This might just be it… This might be the way to stop the war…" Eragon frowned, and brought his head back into the tunnel. "But I want the dragons to survive. I don't want them to be extinct."

Moving slowly back down the dark tunnel, Eragon wondered at his discovery. Should he tell the Queen and Captain?

It might be suicide not to.

It might not matter that he was trying to save the dragons.

They might destroy him anyways.

It might not be the way the maiden had spoken of by the river.

It might not.

Eragon sighed inwardly. All of his efforts for peace were being flushed away, and he had no say in the matter. This was no good. He was not accomplishing his purpose this way, sitting in dark caverns like the dwarves. Those dwarves, flaring up the dragon's anger at the elves, selfish brutes those shorties were

Flaring up his step, he bounded down through the tunnel. When he made it outside, he set up a noticeable rock in the middle of the entrance. He then carefully made his way from the dragons nesting place, being aware not to call attention to himself.

He finally managed to make it to the forest, where he took up his pace in full. Feet flying, he ran on and on, knowing every moment was precious to his survival, and possibly to the survival of his race.

As tired as he was, he ran through the night. He felt a tension inside his heart that urged him on, giving him strength when he felt he could not take another step, giving him courage when he feared for his life in the short, dangerous journey back.

He arrived back in the elven camp the next morning, breathless and exhausted, but with a sense of accomplishment. Sure, maybe he hadn't exactly fulfilled the mission yet, but hey, he was about as 'home' as he could get.

His heart was soaring, but he kept his head solid on his shoulders and exhausted as he was, made it quickly and without delay to the Captain's tent.

"Hail Vladime!" he called upon throwing the flap aside. Eragon walked in with a sure step and calm and collected tone of voice. "I have done as you requested. The fortress is impressive, and had I not decided to explore it you would've sent me for naught. As it is, I know a way to pass in unscathed, and return victorious." Eragon noticed with much relief that the Captain was alone in the tent, and that he did not seem to be messing with anything _that_ important.

"Eragon! This is news indeed… Tell me of your adventure. I want every detail, down to the color of the last rock you saw." The last comment of course was an exaggeration, but Eragon told his story in full detail as quickly as possible. He made sure to note the directions, the time it took him at full speed to get there, and how exactly to find the hidden passageway.

To Eragon it seemed to only take a few moments to tell the full tale, but in reality it was more like an hour or so. He spoke quickly, yet with clarity so that Vladime would have no doubts concerning the truth of his tale.

When Eragon finally fell silent, Vladime sat for many minutes, gazing blankly out into nothing. Eragon wondered if he could go to his tent and get a mite of sleep, but he stayed quiet, knowing that it was rude to disturb a Captain when he was thinking and your question was merely 'Can I take a nap?'

So Eragon stayed silent for the few long minutes Vladime made no move, but after a while even he could not restrain himself. A long yawn emerged, and with it a heave of sleepiness and exhaustion. After all, he had just run like a madman through the night without even taking a rest. Sleep was just _so_ tempting…

Finally Vladime took notice of him and dismissed him to another time, saying that he had done well.

Eragon of course heeded little if any of this, and was most grateful for the fact that a bed was waiting for him in his tent, seeming close to tired feet. In fact, he did not remember most of the road to his tent, at about one-quarter of the way he fell asleep, and he slept-walked the rest of the way to his quarters.

"To a job well done!" he toasted himself in a dream that night.

"Indeed, very well done." Vladime had congratulated him, and Eragon had lost himself in another weaving of another imagined tale.

**Read and Review PLZ**


	5. Chapter 5

It was on the following morning that Eragon was summoned to Vladime's tent for a long talk about battle tactics and the fastest, quickest and most sure way to claim a mighty victory against the dragons without taking too many losses.

In other words, a long nap.

Except for the fact that Eragon was constantly being asked questions, that was exactly what he would've been doing. He wasn't exactly recuperated from his excursion, and well, the string of conversation was utterly boring. Besides, it was a just little hotter than toasty in the tent, and practically, Eragon wasn't feeling so well in the heat. Indeed, this was normally his occupation, talking about what the next move should be, but today his heart just wasn't in it. In addition to all of this, the elves were having memory losses and had to repeat questions time after time after time before it finally registered in their minds.

"Sheesh, I'm just an _elf_! What do they expect from me?" he thought after a particularly annoying-question-that-had-already-been-asked-five-times-already had been once again repeated.

Thus he was greatly relieved when Vladime finally told him that he would no longer be needed and that he was free to go and prepare for leading the army back.

Okay, so he wasn't so thrilled about the "prepare to lead the army back" part, but freedom sounded especially sweet to his almost-feverish body. When your ears start cooking indoors, you know something isn't exactly right.

The air outdoors was much cooler than inside, and Eragon's heart felt lighter than it had for a long while, despite all of the tragedy he had experienced. His mind wandered back over the past few days, all of the questions, all of the evil, all of the good, all of the wonder, all of the hate. His mind finally stopped at the ever-present question concerning rescuing elves.

Frowning, Eragon grumbled at himself for nothing really, but it seemed like everything at the moment.

Everything.

What a concept.

That blasted elf-maiden… who was she anyways, telling him that he could do something he couldn't?

A flash of light went off in his heart, the same idea that had hit him in the tent just a few days earlier, but as before he took no heed to it and tossed it aside. Some ideas are just too ambitious to be possible.

Freedom. Didn't that word set his heart off just a few moments ago? And now, freedom seemed like a far off concept that was just too good to be true.

Eragon wandered around camp and finally came to the water at which his mind had been first tormented by the responsibility of knowing how to save elves. Right. Eragon, one little elf knew something other elves didn't? How was he so different? So what he was the youngest elf surviving in the encampment, which made no difference. How was being younger going to solve their problems?

Ever since a very young age, Eragon had been taught to think critically. He had been chastised for asking for motives ever since he was a young boy, and he hadn't asked that question since he was eight. But now he began to ask himself for motives. What was driving him on?

"Nothing drives me. I do it because I am obliged to defend my people."

Is that what was driving everyone else on?

"Obligations," Eragon snorted, "I wonder if the dragons fight out of obligations as well." He fell on his back and started looking at the fluffy white clouds. People were so stupid. As if one person could know what thousands and thousands of others didn't. Even the Gray Elves all knew how to control magic. _All_ of them. Not just one, or how else would they have formed the ancient language? All of them. And this maiden was suggesting that one elf knew.

Eragon was getting very irritated.

One particular cloud looked a lot less fluffy than the others, and from what he knew about science, Eragon tried to guess why. It was good to get his mind off of the lady, but as he studied the cloud for longer he began to see a shape. Actually it was a lot of shapes. Almost like a bunch of white dragons clustered together.

"Wait a minute…" Eragon thought, his heart pounding. This could not be good. But then the cloud changed, and it began to look like a battle. Elves joined the shape, and Eragon could see large forces attacking each other. Then he saw a lone elf on a cliff top, holding something large and round. It looked as though the elf was going to crush it, but then he stopped and put the object into a small bag and ran off. Eragon saw some more battles, but then he saw an elf—and he could not believe his eyes when he saw the next image—an elf riding a dragon!

"Now what could be more preposterous than that?" Eragon thought irritably, though undoubtedly interested that such a thing could be possible.

But then again, these were _clouds_ he was watching, not living creatures that had flesh on them and blood in them.

"Still… a fascinating concept to be sure."

The cloud changed suddenly again, and Eragon saw many elves riding dragons, and they were all fighting one another. It seemed to be that there were thirteen such riders versus the rest, and what was incredible was that the rest seemed to be losing. There must've been hundreds of dragons opposing these thirteen, and yet only two or three of those thirteen fell as Eragon watched. Hundreds of the rest were dying, and it broke Eragon's heart to see it. He almost closed his eyes from the cloud, but the image changed again, to see a young farm boy hunting in a forest. There was a flash of light, and a round object appeared some distance in front of him. The boy approached the item cautiously, walking first around it before venturing anywhere near it. He went closely, and picked up the item and—

"Eragon! There you are. What are you doing here?"

Eragon jerked up at the voice of the Queen, realizing at the same time that he must've been dreaming and that the cloud, nor the images the cloud had projected, had all been fake.

He also remembered that he was supposed to be preparing for leading the army back.

"Whoops…" he thought as the Queen bent over him.

"Are you ready, Eragon son of Erisi?" She asked quietly.

Eragon thought about how to best answer her for a moment, then grinned innocently and asked,

"If I say no… will you promise not to injure me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm on FIRE!!!**

The Queen looked down on him with a surprised expression and Eragon laughed. Laughing is a good way to let out steam. And that expression…

Leading the army might not be _so_ bad after all.

He got up and took a quick look around him, counting the number of elves in the back of his mind. He had no clue how the elves were going to get through the foothills unnoticed, but there was plenty of space in the tunnel. Perhaps they could come in shifts?

That made him laugh too.

Oh he was _so_ funny today.

And the looks Vladime and the Queen were giving him wasn't helping any. So to distract himself, he asked,

"We leave… right now I guess. This way, warriors!" after he had said that he realized he hadn't packed his tent, or anything else for that matter. "How about you all go that way… while I get ready?"

Vladime gave Eragon 'the evil eye', but the Queen just laughed. Eragon figured now was the time to run if he was going to.

So he did.

Yes, he sure ran as fast as his legs could carry him to his tent, where he made some precisely hasty calculations. He grabbed a sword, some faelnirv and a change of clothes which he stuffed hastily in a small bag.

Then he returned to where the elves had amassed and came next to the Queen. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to lead from—being in the front of an army sounded a little… creepy. Thousands of people depending on him. How he hated responsibility! And yet that blasted maiden had placed just such a responsibility upon his shoulders. Oh the agony.

"I'm too young for this. ARGH!!!" Eragon shrieked inside his head as the Queen led him—you guessed it—to the _very_ front of the army.

_And_ to add to his agony she requested that he give a motivating speech.

"Well fellow friends, we have one chance and we had best use it well the _first_ time so we don't have to clean up the mess we made like _last_ time. Am I clear? Our goal is to annihilate the enemy. We'll be making one stop and one stop _only_ before we arrive. Um… For elfdom!"

"FOR ELFDOM!" came the roaring response of an encouraged army.

Now Eragon knew he really hated leadership and that next time he would _definitely _leave the leading for someone else. Or make a map. Maps were some of his best friends. He knew his Alagaesia map like the back of his hand.

"And to think I actually don't know what the back of my hand looks like. I always wear gloves... Idioms can be so idiotic."

And it was with such thoughts that Eragon began to retrace his steps to the nesting place of the winged beasts.

And leading wasn't half bad. At least he wasn't tripping up over the boots of the guy in front of him. Or being tripped up by the person behind him. (Well, he got a horse, so fat chance of being tripped up by the idiot behind him who jumped underneath his hooves.)

He was leading mainly by instinct, and this gave him the time to brood over everything. To think. To reason. To be logical.

"So maybe I really do know the way to save us all. If attacking this place will destroy them all, then perhaps, perhaps I really do know the way. Maybe I'm fulfilling destiny." A frown crossed over his face as he thought, "or maybe not. Perhaps I am bringing doom on us all. Maybe…"

He decided to try and forget his ever present source of irritation, so he began to try to think of a way to get an elf army across the foothills and plains without being discovered. Or maybe he just needed to create a diversion. Or have someone else, who didn't mind standing in the face of a dragon, create a diversion.

He grappled with the final sense of irritation that was… well, irritating and frustrating him. What was this corridor doing in the cliffs anyways? How did it get there? Who made it? Was it just one huge ventilation shaft? Or perhaps…

Eragon couldn't guess what the purpose of this hidden hallway was. He just hoped that it worked. He was just pleading to himself that it would work. He just had to believe it would work.

Now _that_ was irritating.

Elves had never been big on faith. It just, wasn't them. They believed in science. Science (and magic) had explained everything before. It was logical. It made sense. The dots all connected. It was elvish. In this instance, fate was the only science to rely on.

How very vexatious for an elf!

It sure didn't make Eragon very happy. Although he _almost_ snapped at the Queen twice. Never a good move on horseback, as Eragon found out later when another elf was foolish enough to try it.

Eragon had stopped for a moment to collect himself and get his bearings, when from the rear of the company a lone voice cried out a greeting. A female elf, probably just over a year younger than Eragon and wearing dark green with a small band around her dark black hair, ran to the front and bowed before her Majesty with a flourish.

"Your Honor, why weren't our forces informed of this venture? The soldiers are restless. You can't go on such a mission and leave us behind! There is no logic! There are already plenty of men left to defend, why were we not summoned!?" her blue eyes shone brightly with unrestrained aggravation.

"Eliana," the Queen sighed irritably. "What are you doing here?"

"One question at a time. I asked mine first. Give me an answer!"

Eragon watched, astounded, as the Queen swooped down and grabbed the elf by the collar of her shirt and held her arms length out from the horse.

"My choices are my own. Tell your regiment when they are experienced enough they will be sent out to do what must be done. We need no more unnecessary deaths than necessary."

"_Excuse_ me, but how do we gain experience if not through _action_?"

The Queen dropped her and said quietly, "I will not have them die a useless death. Their experience must be gained another day. Today, we ride to our potential doom."


	7. Chapter 7

**Right... sorry it's so short but I have a couple other projects that are demanding my attention. :D**

***

Eliana was not pleased with this turn of events, and as the army marched past her fallen figure she decided she was sure of one thing—she would prove her worth, on her own if necessary, and show the Queen that she too could fight as well as any other elf.

She stood with a calm, quiet dignity and waited for the rest of the army to pass by. Some things you just had to do for yourself.

***

Even if Eragon had only been on this path once, he felt as though he had been walking down it ever since he was a little child. He knew he was going the right way, his sixth sense told him that, and he was pondering the conflict of a certain "Eliana" and the Queen. He had been about to request that the Queen allow her on the mission, but then the Queen had snatched up the lass, and Eragon had dared not interfere after that. He sensed there was a deeper argument there, but he could tell the Queen was in no mood for his petty questions. There was no way that he could see a question from himself getting past the angry state of the Queen, so he kept all of his countless questions to his own mind, and began to drown himself in them.

It had been three hours since Eliana had first appeared that Eragon first noticed it. T'was lurking shadow just outside his range of vision, almost mimicking his movement.

He turned his head slightly to get a better view, but the shadow was not to be seen in detail, and stayed on the fringes of his vision. Without a sort of identification Eragon could not tell whether it meant him good or ill. He knew that perhaps he ought to take some more precautions, but decided against it upon considering the fact that perhaps this shadow was the maiden by the river.

And in fact that was the greatest mystery of all, the maiden—who was she? How did she know?

Perhaps she was a hoax?

Whenever the lady came up in his mind, what she had said clouded Eragon's mind. And whenever what she said came up, the lady clouded his mind.

And that led to another piddling thought that had been slightly bothering Eragon as he rode.

Eragon always had been, and probably always would be an avid reader. And every good reader knew that a good story has a conflict. And those conflicts were usually always simple good versus evil.

But it seemed that in the real life it was never like that. It was always more complicated than just that, good and evil. The war, for example… elves were good, but it did not seem conceivable to Eragon that the dragons weren't capable of goodness too. So it was not simply good versus evil.

For him these thoughts became obsolete as the shadow moved further into his range of vision. His eyes flicked over to where it was moving and verified his hypothesis that it was some sort of elvish figure. It was clad in a black armor with a rounded helm that bore no markings.

The fact that three weren't any markings both comforted and bothered Eragon. He decided to cease his botherings and get on with it in the end, and they continued on their journey.

The next morning the forest had thinned and they were nearing the foothills. Eragon halted the company and took short council on how best to navigate through the hills. It was concluded that they would wait till nightfall before attempting to cross the plains. It was also decided that magicians would accompany Eragon to the passageway to the top, and would light a torch that would be visible only to elves so that they might come in spurts across the fields.

What was more amazing than the structure itself though were the thousands of dragons in its surroundings. Huge dragons of all shapes, sizes, colors ages, if you could imagine a dragon you could probably find one similar to the one in you imagination. From this distance, if you didn't look closely, the rock looked like it was painted with a multicolored pen or many paintbrushes, always rustling and moving about.

It was so amazing and breathtaking that Eragon contemplated forgetting the whole venture, but then images of loved ones presented themselves in front of his eyes, and he knew he would have justice done to them.

Night came, and Eragon and a pair of magicians ran quickly to the area Eragon had previously marked out. He handed each of them long sticks, and with a quick spell the branches were brightly illuminated. Eragon stationed the elves on either side of the doorway, and he himself marched resolutely through.  
Five minutes later a regiment came pouring through. Eragon whispered directions to them, and they silently marched up the pathway. Eragon ushered soldiers on for about an hour before the Queen and Vladime came, and then, with an enchanted whistle that, again, only elves could hear, the army charged forth into the night to take back the lives stolen from them.

"They will never forget tonight. They may not survive tonight." Eragon's chest contracted with a sense of guilt that the dragons might be wiped out, but he pushed it aside and stood straighter than before.

He would not fail the lost.

The whole time in the tunnel Eragon had been wondering what the mysterious figure would be up to. He had kept a close eye out for the signature helmet in the fray, but he had seen nothing but the pointed masks that the warrior elves wore.

"Perhaps he found a more effective way of getting up," Eragon mused as he followed Vladime up the incline. He loosened his sword in his sheath and put on a pair of gloves. He then grabbed his own mask from his bag and put it on over his face.

He was going to war.


	8. Chapter 8

The battle was raging fiercely at the end of the tunnel, but with Eragon's help the tide was turned and the fight moved on. Eragon's mind went blank, and he fought without pity, smashing eggs with spells muttered simultaneously with stabs; dragons fell under the attack.

Elves were dying left and right. The rock became slick with blood, the once still air ringing with shrieks of pain and delight from both sides. From the corner of his eye Eragon thought he saw fresh dragons flying to their home, but he could not pay attention to anything that was not within a three foot radius of him. Too much was happening, tails swinging, swords hacking, fire spurting, teeth flashing in the starlight. A waxing moon turned red over the cliffs, testifying to the great murder being done in its light, appeasing the Grave with an appropriate setting.

Eragon had the endurance and speed of an elf, but after three long hours of constant battle he felt as though it was a lost cause. For every dragon felled there was another to take his place, for every egg smashed there were four or five more waiting to hatch.

And no matter how smooth the cliffs had looked from the ground, they were a rugged mess on top.

There were cracks several strides wide, and they were hard to avoid. Eragon saw far too many of his comrades fall in thanks to a well placed tail of a fire-spewing dragon.

Despairing, Eragon wondered if anyone was going to survive the night. Reinforcements were needed, and badly, but there was no chance of them coming. Well, since this was the nesting place as well—there was a strong chance that if most of the dragons died the remnant wouldn't stand a chance against the army that had been left behind. It had seemed that the Queen was of the opinion that the "left behind" army was a large collection of ninnies with swords, and if the elves failed this night all would be lost.

"Truce," Eragon's mind shouted at him, "You _have_ to find a truce. It's your last chance."

"Truce only delays ultimate destruction," he argued back.

"Okay, okay, you're almost right. Why haven't the envoys of the past helped us any? No form of communication! You can't have a truce unless the two parties can reach a sort of agreement of the terms."

"That's genial—but you've really got to shut up now unless you want us dead!" Eragon grumbled to himself as he dodged a beam of flame.

"Stop going for the stomach! The only good it does is bend your sword. You've had to replace it about five or six times already. Try the armpits, or if you're lucky, under the jaw. You know there's hardly any protection there!" Eragon's other self shouted as he mangled yet another sword.

"Nice observation," he noted sourly. "Mind telling me these things sooner?" He grabbed his seventh sword from a melting soldier, deciding he was going to have to name that irritating second side of himself.

"Oooh, call me Eragon, Eragon. That would clarify things real quick."

"And on a more serious note, I hereby name you Bid'Daum."

"The most random and stupid sounding name I've ever heard in my life."

"Which is why it's yours."

"You do realize that in a sense you just named yourself something stupid."

"Will you shut up!? We—I admit it—are trying to _survive_ here. Now please stay shut."

With rising irritation at himself, he decided it was no longer safe to be in the heat of the battle—he was distracting himself far too much for some serious safety. Besides, he wasn't a very experienced fighter, as he usually did all the dirty _after_ work. It was just luck—ahem—fate that he was able to adapt to situations with amazing speed.

But everywhere he went it seemed the battle was just as fast paced. There were fewer soldiers on both sides, but it mattered little, the fight was being fought with ever more intensity. Eragon ended up just saving lives by dashing to and fro and making good use of his seventh sword and his ability to sneak up on things. He found that in between the frills on a dragon there was also very little protection—which actually surprised him, though Bid'Daum—man that name really _was _annoying—claimed he knew it the whole time.

Eventually the battles he was fighting were further and fewer in between, with the circumstances of each fight becoming more and more severe. He was able to put more energy into smashing eggs, a task that did not take so much out of him, though by now he was starving and dead tired.

"Okay, I think it's about time to get out of here," Eragon admitted to himself after he had a surprise encounter with a mother dragon guarding the last of her eggs. He breathed heavily over her carcass before going to the nearby cliff edge.

"I suppose if I jumped down I wouldn't get too smashed..." he thought to himself.

"Since you've taken the trouble to name me, master Eragon, I am going to make use of myself. The only way you would be able to survive jumping is if you used magic to slow your fall to that of a jump from a four foot wall—and you can't hardly walk." Bid'Daum stated matter-of-factly into Eragon's head.

"I certainly have invested too much brain power in you. I believe I've split my personality. Now why did I do that?" Eragon thought tiredly, turning from the ledge and sitting in between the shoulders of the blue dragon he had defeated.

"Apparently you have too many conflicting thoughts in your head, so you decided that in order for them to make sense you would have me come along. Then I could argue with you to your hearts content, and you would go crazy." Bid'Daum laughed to himself.

"For whatever reason, I think you're right." Eragon muttered grumpily. It really was comfortable here, in between the shoulders. He could wait here, catch his breath. Argue with Bid'Daum. Now that was a great idea.


	9. Chapter 9

"So lemme get this straight, you seriously invented me for the sole purpose of having someone to argue with?" Bid'Daum asked incredulously.

"Yup. Because you're not me I feel less guitly of what we—or in other words, of what _you—_think. So you're kind of the creation of my guilt." Eragon responded, laziliy casting an eye over by the egg the this dragon had died to save.

"And even though I already know, why don't you tell me exactly what your guilt lies on?" Bid'Daum asked smugly.

"The dragons. They're not worth destroying. Not entirely..." Eragon muttered guiltily.

"So you just admitted that I'm useless because you believe it." Bid'Daum was openly laughing at Eragon now. "I have three things to tell you: you are sitting on the source of your guilt—a dead dragon. You really do know the way to save the elves—he's waiting for you in that there egg the-source-of-your-guilt-which-you-are-sitting-on. And finally, it's not healthy to have a split personality that will make you grumpy and irritated. If you're gonna invent someone, it should be someone who's gonna calm that mind of yours."

"See! You really are the creation of my fear and guilt! Do you realize how preposterous the suggestion of raising a friendly dragon is? Yes, it's genius—I admit that much to you, Bid'Daum, but how could I raise him? I'd have to do it in secret; I'd practically have to seceed from the army and raise him in the wild."

"Which is where he'd grow up anyways." Bid'Daum pointed out stubbornly.

"But the point you made earlier—no form of communication," Eragon wildly tried to change the subject.

"How do you train a dog? It's the same principle for a dragon baby except that he'll be like the stray mutt that is wild to the core."

"And if the mutt can tear off a finger, imagine what this guy will be able to take off. My arm? My _head?_" Eragon said.

"Well, I bet you can't come up with a better idea, not even if you thought about it all your waking hours till the day you die. So what could it hurt to try? If you smash that there little egg, I will not let you get out of here until you find another one to take home, and that is a _promise_." Bid'Daum grumbled obstinately.

"Then we will wait here until I starve," Eragon said, not willing to give up his side of the arguement in favor of the one he loathed and loved at the same time.

"Aw c'mon Eragon, you can say it was me—the evil side of you that you've been supressing for years and years come to surface and confuse your poor scattered brain!"

"Shut up! I know I could say that. But would it work in the slightest?"

"Well, since you've created me, yeah."

"You can't lie in the ancient language, dumbo."

"Well you can decide that a year now equals a minute, and then it will be true."

"But you've surfaced quite a bit now, haven't you? I would still be lying."

"Oh fine, you would be. Which is why that's not what you're going to do, right? You'll just hide like a good little Eragon, no issues concerning the subject. You'll just listen to me because we both know you want to."

"You're crazy!" Eragon shouted furiously, leaping up as though to punch another humanoid who was not there.

"I am exactly what you make me. And since I am as much you as you are me, _I_ will take that egg since you apparently wont."

"Oh no! I am so not going to let you take the glory of saving my species, I-" Eragon stopped, realizing what he had just said. He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "If it goes bad, you did it. Otherwise..." Eragon chuckled self-consciously. "Otherwise it was all me."

"Fair enough. I am the source of your guilt, should it actually turn out to _be_ guilt. If not, I am your blaze of inspiration-"

"That no one except for you and me will ever know about," Eragon finished the sentence with his most proficient tone of finality.

"Yup. One day you'll thank me though. Now, toss your mask off the edge and put the egg in its bag. Then you'll go around and make sure the battle's over. Then-"

"Seeing as I am the boss around here, I think I will be issuing the orders," Eragon put in, silencing Bid'Daum.

"Sure thing, boss."

Taking another deep breath, Eragon hobbled over to the perfectly round and pure white rock that would change the course of history. He knelt down, and gently lifted it up to his face, marveling the perfection. He hesitated only slightly, because he had made up his mind. He stuffed the egg into his bag, stood, and bounded with exhaustion off into the night, looking for any sign of elvish life. He wondered if they had lost, retreated, or if both sides had lost all life.

"Definitely not likely boss," Bid'Daum said inresponse to that thought.

"Well it's a possibility, all right, genius? I am entitled to being able to think my own thoughts and have my own opinions," Eragon grumbled, trying to concentrate on silencing Bid'Daum.

"You know, I can't imagine how annoying you must be, considering what I'm like."

"Shut. Up."

"You _know_ you can say that all you want and I'll still just blabber on and on, trying to keep you from thinking demonic thoughts and-"

"Actually, if you actually paid attention, you were the one suggesting demonic-"

"Yes well, I'm distracting you from that now. Okay? Distracta-distracta. Boo. Are-you-scared-yet? You should be. You're alone in the night in the nest of an angry and endangered species. You should really be more logical about these things."

"Listen, there's a difference between being scared and taking precautions. You know?"

"Nope."

"You are SO annoying."

"Yes, you are," Bid'Daum snorted ironically.

Eragon managed a smile at the irony, and he continued his search with a slightly lighter heart than before.

As he made his way across the rock, he was sorrowful at the heaps and heaps of bodies. At intervals he came across an elf that was barely alive, much like himself. He did what he could to save them, or at least to make them comfortable before their deaths.

"All should go down knowing they are heroes," Eragon told Bid'Daum solemnly.

"Heroes that no songs will be sung about, heroes that will die in the memories of our kind," Bid'Daum said quietly.

"Heroes that died and saved us whether or not we remember them," Eragon whispered bitterly.


	10. Chapter 10

"I honor that... let's go," Bid'Daum said softly, bidding Eragon to rise from his position and search for some live kin.

"Indeed, tonight was not meant to be a night of victory, but of triumph. So many were lost..."

"So that many more would not be. Grief should be saved for safety, not for a time such as this. Go, I suggest searching for the entrance with which you entered. The battle is over, there will be few here. If they are anywhere, they will be down below, in safety."

With a resigned sigh, Eragon followed Bid'Daum's logic and ran from the mess. He spent the next half hour searching for the entrance to the tunnel, hoping he could find it, hoping he had not rushed too quickly from the maw.

He found it.

And then he cautiously ran through it, deeply saddened by the few warriors whose bodies were rotting on the floor. When he reached the bottom he peeped out, looking for a telltale sign of smoke from anywhere.

"Good knight," a voice said quietly from the side, "it is good you have survived. Camp has been made three miles hence." A magician's staff pointed out towards the forest, and Eragon thanked the invisible hand holding the stick and ran in the given direction.

He ran slowly, as fast as his tired body would let him. Bid'Daum was silent, engulfed in Eragon's own exhaustion. Even so, Eragon made the three miles within twenty minutes, but what he found was not what his aching body wanted.

Two dragons, long as a tree was high and just as tall were doing battle with about twenty elves in a large clearing. Another dragon's body lay damming a creek, its blood polluting the water.

The remaining elves were in conditions worse than Eragon's, the Queen and Vladime giving orders in the heat of the battle as they tiredly dodged gushes of flame. From somewhere far-off a trumpet resounded, signalling help too far off to be of any immediate help.

"So here I go to die a hero," Eragon whispered to Bid'Daum. "Perhaps we will not be remembered. But at least we will not have died in vain," and with those thoughts he gathered what hidden strength he had in him and charged into the hopeless battle.

He ran in the creek, because it was the least strewn with bodies. As nimbly as a dead-tired elf could, he ran up the spine of the dragon and jumped for all he was worth towards a live dragon, mouth open in a soundless scream of exasperation, sword ready to stab through a spinal cord.

He missed.

He stabbed deep into a golden foreleg, cutting off a paw from the rest of the limb. A shriek of pain came from deep inside of the golden dragon, and the beast came bearing down on Eragon, flames gushing out in a fashion similar to the blood from his leg.

"Too bad it won't be remembered," Eragon/Bid'Daum thought hazily, barely having the strength to lift his light sword. "Because this might just be worth remembering."

The dragon missed just as badly as Eragon did.

Meaning it fell into the already dammed crick and snapped its jaw off with the force of its own attack.

Eragon shuddered for the writhing dragon, sight fading as he dropped his sword into mud. No one should have to die that way.

Blackness began to take over, and as Eragon fought for consciousness his last sight was that of a black-clad elf with unmarked armor leaping into the final fray, just as Vladime was being fried alive, the last sound he heard was that of a trumpet on his right, and his last thought was,

"No one should have to live through this."

* * *

And yet, somehow, he was one of the few that lived.

He was Eragon, or so the Queen had told her, and so she had recognized him from the travel. He had been a 'scavenger and tactician,' but now,

"He's not just a scout anymore. He's a hero—possibly more than that."

There had only been five that had survived that night, and her only regret was that she hadn't been there to save more. Eliana, for all of her talk of valour, had only one dragon kill under her belt, and that had been last night's.

She almost shuddered at the thought.

It hadn't been as easy as she had always dreamed—but she had done it, and that was the only thing that had mattered. She was a true warrior now, and the Queen had to admit it, despite all of their previous desputes.

But there was still that Eragon fellow.

When he woke up, unlike most patients he began asking questions about some fellow named 'Bid'Daum,' if he was okay and what had happened. Then he started asking about an elf with unmarked armor and then he had asked—

Basically he asked a lot of questions.

About the last night he remembered, about the last five minutes he did not experience, about people that had survived.

Eliana wasn't exactly thrilled about being the one to tell him, but duty forced her to slowly and sadly tell the truth.

And Eragon—the funny thing about him—he had taken it all silently, and then sighed and smiled with melancholy sadness. His jaw hadn't dropped, he hadn't fainted, he had just smiled.

She, for some reason that quite confused her, had been awarded with the title of Hero, highest rank. Eragon had been as well, though he was still out when he had received the title and was quite bewildered when he heard about it. His eyes—Eliana had to admit, she liked those tender honey-gray eyes—had lit up quizzically, as though expecting a "just kidding" a moment later, and it was almost hard for her to keep a serious face on.

He needed a hair-cut though. He was constantly tossing his bangs out of his eyes, which she liked to look at and—

Okay, okay. She _liked_ him. Big deal. It wasn't a new concept, girls liking guys. She had noticed him before—and she had hoped, with a sort of desperation that he didn't remember their first encounter. That maybe, that little event could cease to exist in the memories of elves.

Knowing the psychology of the species though, that was highly unlikely, and there was such a slim chance of him forgetting the encounter that—

Maybe she needed to visit the psychologist.

Actually, what she _needed _to be was strong. Strong for the five severely wounded veterans. Strong for a certain dirty-blonde haired—

Geez! He wasn't more than a year older than her. He probably looked down on her. God—oh wait, she didn't believe in God... oh well—knew what he thought about her. He had been through one of the most bloody battles probably in the history of elves. And... well, there was a _chance_ that she knew what he thought.

Quite honestly she was disillusioned and she knew it quite well. Which was why she was trying to be busy, or distracted by other things a lot more. Well, let's just say she was a confused teen trying to be more mature than she was, and that well, maybe, just _maybe_, she just happened to really like a certain hero of the highest rank.

Oh, what were those tiny molecules called? Hormones. She. Hated. Hormones.


	11. Chapter 11

**So from now on I'll TRY hard to have enough imagination to have a new chapter every other day. Or at least every week. Because I don't want Paolini to give more information in Book Four that makes my story obsolete :P**

Those first few days had been pretty rough on Eragon—a lot had happened while he was out, and he _still_ didn't know who the mystery elf was. In fact, now that he was "born anew," as it felt, all the questions and torments of before crashed down on him harder than before. Bid'Daum had more of a personality than ever, and that seemed to make Eragon a lot more mellow. It had made the planning for escape quite interesting.

Besides all that, now he was a verteran, _and _a hero of the highest rank.

Now how exactly had that come about?

Well, he didn't care. He had a plan, he had it all figured out with Bid'Daum. Actually, they didn't even have half a thought created between them for "escape," but they didn't—well Eragon didn't anyways—care how long it took. Luckily for him as well, his bag and its _very_ important contents were still intact, and unsearched, or so he hoped.

He just had to get out of camp—which, as a hero, highest rank, that was not by any means going to be easy.

Actually, he needed to know a _whole_ lot more than that, but he didn't care. In fact, much to Bid'Daum's dismay, he really wanted to stay. There was so much to learn, so many things he didn't know about that night, so much that—

Truth was, he was afraid of becoming an old bearded hermit.

"If the biggest sacrifice you have to make for elfdom is growing a beard, then you should count yourself lucky," Bid'Daum had told him time and time again as the days rolled by.

"I don't know anything about dragons," Eragon had said, (as a red herring) though it was as much of a lie as anything he had ever told Bid'Daum.

"Well I don't either, in fact, I don't even know if our dear little egg will ever hatch. _Ever._ But we _have_ to take the chance, because if we don't—"

"We'll all die eventually anyways, so what's the point of going on?" Eragon interrupted.

"Well you've got to live for something. Besides, would you rather die a natural death or get murdered?" Bid'Daum asked pointedly.

"It's all death, so in the end what's the difference?" Eragon was spiraling into depression, even though he hadn't even left yet.

"Dumbo, it's the _life_ that you live. That's the whole point. Forget death, it's all about _LIFE_."

"Yeah, and if I live it in a cave in the middle of nowhere hoping for the hopeless, what good will that be?" Eragon would counter, and then they would proclaim a truce in hopes of coming up with something brilliant later.

Of course, later they would usually have the same argument and then wait again. Which added up to a day. Which added up to a week. Which, if it continued in this fashion, would add up to their deaths.

Eragon was always quick to point out that death was how it was going to end anyways—why make it harder than it already was by running away?

Bid'Daum would retort that Eragon wouldn't be able to fulfill his purpose because the Queen would force him to smash the egg.

Eragon would accept this, and ask why then had the egg not been smashed.

Bid'Daum had a new plot every-time—maybe the Queen wanted Eragon to explain himself, maybe she really didn't know, maybe she thought it was a good idea too... the ideas that Bid'Daum came up with were endless, his excuses always were just good enough to keep Eragon from moving his tired body.

In fact, Bid'Daum was the excuse.

And Eragon knew it. Bid'Daum didn't really exist. Not physically. So they shouldn't be talking. Really.

At first, Bid'Daum had claimed that he was a separate enough entity that Eragon wouldn't have to take any blame. But Eragon knew better—he knew that Bid'Daum was just as much Eragon as he was. Which was confusing, but true nonetheless.

He got out of bed for the first time on day four.

Being in bed for as long as that, he was surprisingly weak when he got up. His legs nearly buckled underneath him when he took his first step. This was something neither Eragon nor Bid'Daum had thought of.

It gave Eragon a new reason to stay.

If he was too weak to survive on his own among his own kind, how then would he ever be able to survive in the wild with a baby dragon?

This logic stumped even Bid'Daum, who up to then had always come up with an excuse to go. Eragon had finally won.

So he began to spend his time regaining his lost weight, (there wasn't much to gain,) the stamina he had lost, the flexibility that he no longer had.

In other words, a whole lot of rigorous training.

Eragon worked slowly, as though he had eternity to return to his previous state. And in a way, he told Bid'Daum, he did have quite a long time. The egg might hatch in that time, meaning that they weren't risking anything.

"Sure, Eragon, the egg is going to hatch in the middle of the enemy base. Yeah right."

Eragon didn't care that his logic was just a little wrong.

He spent his time running through the forest, swinging through the trees, tracking the lone wolves and lions for the challenge of it.

He wrestled and fought with the other elves, he debated with the Queen, he trained every aspect of himself that he could think of.

Bid'Daum was a constant pain, because even though he agreed that Eragon needed to get back into shape he didn't agree that Eragon needed to become _stronger_ than he had been before, he thought that it was useless to become _faster_ than before, he could not wrap his head around Eragon's trying to tie himself into knots.

"How the heck is _knotting_ yourself going to help you raise a dragon?" Bid'Daum asked irritably, quite often.

"Well, if he decides to eat me, then I can run away and hide in a tree."

"That doesn't explain the knotting."

"I mean _inside_ the tree. Like a squirrel. He'd see me for sure if I sat among the leaves."

Bid'Daum hated this logic, and he grumbled ceaselessly, finding a new way of annoying Eragon every day, becoming more and more like a separate entity every day.

Eragon was content with this.

The truth that neither he nor Bid'Daum disputed was that Eragon was not going to leave until he had found a companion to go with him. More than his fear of a beard (which both Eragon and Bid'Daum knew that Eragon could _never_ grow a beard,) he was terrified of being alone. It was standard by now—Eragon was obstinately determined to find someone to come with him. And it couldn't just be anyone, much to Bid'Daum's dismay. Eragon was going to stay until he found the one person that was _supposed to _go with him.

So much for elves believing in science.


	12. Chapter 12

There is a force that can stump every Vulcan. It is not anger, that is logical, it is not fear, that too is logical for emotional beings. It is not aggression.

Quite simply, it is love.

If anger, fear and aggression cause emotional creatures to act irrationally, then there is no word to explain what love will cause elves or humans, or even dragons and dwarves for that matter, to do.

Eliana was not a Vulcan, but she had always valued logic. Perhaps that is a trait that every pointy-eared species has, but up to date there have been no studies to prove or disprove this theory.

The point is that she was behaving irrationally.

And that wasn't normal.

Granted, she argued over almost everything with the Queen—but that was different. That wasn't irrational. That was being rebellious. And brave.

Actually, that was being stupid. But she didn't really care what the Queen thought of her. Not right now. Right now she needed to get into the main army. So she could actually earn that title that her regiment teased her for. Yes, yes, she had saved the Queen, but almost everyone—except for the Queen that is—were indignant that such a high title should be bestowed for something so petty.

It was a bittersweet thing for Eliana.

On one hand, she was thrilled that the Queen was recognizing her potential. (This is looking logically on the subject.) On the other hand, she was confused as to why she was being recognized.

"Never mind that, you've _been_ recognized and that's the idea," she told herself. "Now you have to _keep on_ being seen as the hero you now are." That wasn't going to be happening any time soon.

"She's scared," Eragon had said. "She _saw_ what the dragons did to her army and now she's more afraid than ever. She's fought battles, of course, she's killed dragons more fierce than I care to imagine. But now she's seen that not all the dragons can be so easily killed. Now she's seen what the only the scavengers used to see—death in cold blood."

"I don't understand," she had said, furrowing her eyebrows together as she thought about it.

They had been sitting in a tall tree a short ways from the camp as Eragon took a quick respite from his heavy training.

"Look at it this way: if you've only fought one dragon at a time with a group of ten or so elves, you always win. No matter how fierce the dragon, with eleven elves it's outmatched. Now imagine that you have thousands of elves, but you're fighting hundreds of dragons. You figure they're outnumbered, and they are—but then you see three dragons kill one-hundred elves with a single swing of their tails. Three-quarters of the warriors that fight are just bait for the one-fourth that actually do the killing. If you have a thousand warriors, eight-hundred are just going to be distracting the dragons so that two-hundred can kill them. Almost all of the eight-hundred are going to die, and of the two-hundred that do the killing, maybe seventy-eight will survive the battle. That's what the Queen has seen, and now she's afraid."

So would Eliana be one of the fourth, or the three-quarters?

It wasn't a question that kept her up at night, it was a mere curiousity that took up a lot of her contemplation...

Which meant that it kept her up at night.

Because the truth was that she too was afraid. It was easy to say that you weren't frightened when there was nothing scary about, but when there was a dragon staring you down in your sleep, it is a totally different thing.

Part of the problem was that she had not seen very many _real_ dragons parading around and growling at you, so part of her fear was merely the fear of the unknown.

But the other part of the problem was that she didn't exactly view dragons as stags to hunt.

Because in her dreams the dragons always talked to her. Talked to her, told her things she thought she'd want to know, told her what she didn't want to hear, told her the things that chilled her to the bone.

They were just as sentient as she was.

And killing a sentient creature was the equivalent to murder.

Which was punishable by death.

So perhaps now you understand her confusion at being honored for taking the life of a creature that, under better circumstances, might have been a friend of hers.

"But that's preposterous! I've been preparing all of my life for this," she told herself again and again when the dreams didn't stop.

"The past matters nothing in the face of the future," her dreams told her, a huge black dragon staring down in her face. Torrents of rain came down, bouncing off of the dragons mighty hide. The moon shone down, sillhouetting the dragon for an even more terrifying effect. "In the face of the present, in the tides of the future, all you can do is tremble. Tremble, because you know in your heart that you are broken and lost."

So she was part of the three-quarters, doomed to die. Death. Die. Her.

She was pretty okay with that.

She would be okay with it, assuming that it would be a painless death—which was never guaranteed.

Thing was, she never trembled. She shook, in anticipation of a death that probably wouldn't come.

It was a phobia.

Which was completely illogical!

And she told herself this, constantly, but to no avail. Still she feared.

For what? She wasn't afraid for her life. It wasn't even that she was afraid of a painful death—so long as it wasn't slow.

No, she couldn't pinpoint the source of her fear. Apprehension, she called it. Unknown, she called it.

"Unreasonable phobia," Eragon said. "You should be afraid of dragons. They are fierce—beautifully so. A marvel of nature, dangerous, but majestic."

"Like magic," was how Eliana compared it.

"Indeed. You must treat them with respect, and in turn they will respect you."

"You don't seriously mean that do you?" she asked in numb shock.

"It is the way of life. It's that way for all beings. Think about it," he had said, looking down on her with a smirk. "Search your feelings. You know it to be true."

"You're right, I guess." There had been an awkward silence, before she broke it with another question that had been bothering her.

"Do you—I mean, well, do you view dragons as our equals, superiors or, you know, inferiors?"

Eragon had gone quiet in concentration.

"Good question. I guess I view them as our equals. At least. If I actually put more thought in it, I'd probably come to the conclusion that they are our superiors. I mean, one dragon versus one elf kind of proves that idea."

"Yeah. But still. Mentally, do you think they're up with us?"

"I don't know. Nobody knows the answers to these kind of questions—we hadn't asked them before Logan went and was an idiot..." Eragon snorted, and stood on the tree-limb. "Well, it's nice of you to give me things to think about, but I've got enough on my mind as it is." He had paused, looking as though he were trying to decide whether or not to jump down. "But it's nice to know that I'm not the only one asking the unanswerable questions."

"They're not unanswerable, you know." Eragon looked at her quizzically. "They just haven't been answered yet. Maybe one day, they will be answered."

"And maybe you'll be the one to answer them," Eragon flashed a bright smile and leapt off the tree with a wave of his hand.

Yeah right. Like she could ever get close enough to a dragon to interview it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hah! So now I have a new laptop, and I will be able to resume my fanfic :D Cheers! Sorry if my writing style has changed dramatically...**

Eragon and Bid'Daum both agreed that procrastinating weeks or possibly months would be worth their time if the only thing that Eragon mastered was magic. Because dragons are magical creatures, it made perfect sense that one should be proficient in magic arts if one wanted to communicate with and understand them. Eragon put himself through ridiculous exercises that Bid'Daum mocked—until he saw the results that is.

Because when Eragon went from creating tiny sparks to creating bonfires, lifting tiny pebbles to huge boulders, Bid'Daum had to concede that the method was working.

"Quite brilliant. I doubt any of the other magicians do it like this," he mumbled proudly.

"If they did, we'd have a whole lot more magicians, eh?" Eragon replied with a grin, satisfied with the results also.

He had his own tent again, which pleased him to no end. His pack and bed had a home, his sword didn't have to be carried around with him constantly (although it was good practice) and he finally had a place he could call 'home.'

Time passed quickly under his meticulous routine, days melted into weeks. Eragon wondered about the Queen's judgement as no moves were made and no reinforcements were called upon. He and Eliana spent many an evening discussing possible plans and various other aspects of their battle-hampered lives and the Queen's inaction was commented upon frequently. He was not particularly bothered about it, (though Eliana often became incensed at her Majesty) mainly because it gave him more time—something he relished greatly. However he enjoyed it, he knew it was unwise.

He spent much of his free time fraternizing with the soldiers under Eliana's command and the other verterans of the battle, searching for a companion crazy enough to come with him in his exile. Out of the hundreds of the inexperienced soldiers he found none who would be delirious enough to consider such a thing, and most of the veterans were too loyal to the Queen to do something as preposterous as that.

Out of the entire encampment Eragon saw one soldier that could possibly be deranged but trustworthy enough to go into the wilderness for a time. An elf named Omril had become fast friends with Eragon as soon as they were strong enough to talk after the battle. The thing that made Omril different from the hundreds of other soldiers that he had become friends with was quite simply his outlook on life.

For a few weeks the only person he had talked to one-on-one was Eliana, because of the encounter on the roadside, but from the fourth week onward his individual conversations grew by two—the Queen and Omril could be found alone with him as well as Eliana.

By now Bid'Daum was the personification of everything the Eragon hated about himself, all of his doubts and fears placed behind a mask of logic and smarts. For Eragon, logic was Bid'Daum's only redeeming quality. Thus it was not Eragon who began to have doubts about a companion, but Bid'Daum who pointed out that the dragon would provide plenty of company for a lonesome elf and that other elves could not be trusted in a venture already fraught with elvish risks.

"Remember the analogy of a baby-dragon being like a wild mutt? Well, mutts are 'man's best friend.' Elves enjoy the company of dogs as well. You're not going to be alone."

Eragon couldn't think of any counterarguments to that, and so he merely pursued his training and already present friendships in hope that Bid'Daum was wrong about the greater risk another elf would pose.

But when the heat of summer began to slowly evaporate and the trees around him began to take on bright earthy colors he knew he was going to make a choice—follow Bid'Daum's unquesitonable logic or be stubborn and just go about inviting a companion.

Both options were not exactly something he wanted to do.

So he procrastinated another few weeks, enjoying the last days of beautiful weather and being an idiot by not preparing for winter properly and—

Before he knew it the only trees with leaves on them were coniferous trees that you couldn't climb very easily but were great hiding places, and even sooner after that the entire world became a panorama of white covering the bare branches of the largest trees.

And even though they were _not_ the best conditions to leave in (Eragon shuddered when he thought about how easy it was going to be to track him) he decided that if he didn't leave by the end of the year he wasn't going to leave at all. The only hints of leaving were dropped in large piles of snow around the campfire, which Eragon found appropriate.

He couldn't say goodbye to anyone.

"Except for you Bid'Daum. I'm going to claim my traits again and try to fix myself up. I'll have to find some use of my time in the middle of winter with a white dragon-egg that I'm probably going to lose because it'll be so well camoflauged."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, genius," Bid'Daum grumbled. "I'm a parasite. You're a host. I'm—"

"Going to get kicked out by a medic named Eragon, which is me, and not you, you blasted leech."

"Why so much hostility all of a sudden?" Bid'Daum asked lazily.

"I'm irritated that I'm going to be leaving, most likely without another psychopath to keep me company," Eragon muttered sourly, scouting around and trying to find a way to hide his tracks.

"If you could fly you wouldn't need to worry about it," Bid'Daum said.

"Well I'm not a dragon," Eragon shot back.

"No, but you're going to be mothering one."

"See now if you paid rent it would be different. Then I would get some compensation for all the trouble you cause me," Eragon grumbled, irritated now that he couldn't find a way to cover his footprints.

"Well here's today's rent then: run in the trees. No one will notice if small bits of a branch aren't covered with the perfect amount of snow, and on the ground it'll look like a squirrel hopped along your path."

Eragon looked up at the deciduous trees that few would think of looking to. He had enjoyed climbing trees since he was a child, but he had never tried climbing from one tree to another.

"Try it and see if I'm wrong," Bid'Daum suggested haughtily.

"Alright you little pussycat, I'll do it in a few meters." Eragon walked up to a tree and shimmied up, trying to keep as much snow on the tree as possible. When he got up to a considerable height he balanced himself on a branch and did some calculations before he leapt lightly to another branch on another tree. When he landed easily he looked about, seeing a whole new realm of possibilities.

"Bid'Daum, you've bought yourself a month's stay," he told the annoying creation. He then laughed aloud, knowing there were none to hear him, and he ran through the branches, singing fierce bird calls as he easily maneuvered through the forest. After some time he returned to the first tree he had climbed on and retraced his path through the trees on the ground, verifying what Bid'Daum had said: nobody would notice the snow that his feet had knocked down.

Something was finally going to happen.


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, I gave the impression that I was going to give three chapters... and I'm really sorry, but I am only delivering two. **

Alas, if things were only that simple.

"None to hear him," he thought. Well, it might've been smart to check and see if there really wasn't anyone around to hear his rooster calls and ringing laughter. Seeing as he didn't, he was unaware of a very sneaky little chipmunk sitting underneath a coniferous snow drift.

A very sneaky and curious little chipmunk, I might add.

Unfortunately for Bid'Daum, this was no chipmunk, it was actually a ridiculously eager young elfling. Who had been spying on Eragon for a long time. Spies are supposed to be secret you know. That's why in ancient Japan the samurai hired ninjas. Ninjas are masters at secrets. So was she.

His master plan was now simple, efficient, and so creative that he wondered if maybe he could finally make friends with Bid'Daum. He certainly was changing Eragon's perspective on things—as much as Eragon hated the thought, he knew that if Bid'Daum didn't exist he wouldn't have been creative enough to find a foolproof escape strategy.

Eragon left six days before the new-year, early in the morning before any other elves were awake to begin the New-Year Sanctification rituals. It would be suspicious. He knew it. He left most of his belongings in his tent, to make it seem as though he was merely out on a walk. He only took his sword, bow, a flask of faelnirv and his coat.

Before the sun had risen he walked backwards to a tree—to make it seem as though he had come from that tree in the first place. He clambered up as best as he could considering he was doing so backwards, and began his journey.

His plan was foolishly vague, too vague to carry out with only a drink for rations and no sort of portable shelter. But that was exactly what he was doing.

"And it's exhilirating, only having yourself to depend on. No civilized comforts, no assurance that you'll ever come back." Eragon had been on the move for three hours now, hoping to put as much distance as he could in between him and the army in as little time.

His focus was intense, and his thoughts were set on distance, on balance, on conserving energy, and not on wondering whether or not he was being watched. And definitely not suspecting that a chipmunk was after him.

Well, following him in any case.

See, Eragon's winter garb was meant for warmth. Not camouflage. Making him as easy to follow as a giant red dragon. Well, maybe not that easy. He didn't breathe fire. His fingernails couldn't gouge through an elf like butter. You get the idea.

He was fast. But you could see him from a league off. And chipmunks, they have fur that changes color to match their surroundings. They're chameleons of the mammal kingdom. Granted, they can only change their color during very specific times of the year (like when it snows and when it doesn't.) And they can only change one color. From brown to white, and white back to brown again.

Okay, okay, they're not the chameleons of the mammal kingdom. They can just lose all their fur and get it all back at one time. Besides, we _are_ speaking figuratively here. You realize the "chipmunk" is really an elf wearing a white coat, right? Eragon's coat is brown. That stands out. White doesn't stand out against white. It just becomes white. All white.

So, the elf-who-is-not-really-a-chipmunk-but-we-will-call-her-that-anyways was tracking Eragon. She was imitating his travel pattern, quite precisely, quite silently, quite stealthily.

Bid'Daum knew they were being followed. Eragon knew he was being followed. Secretly. We have a lot of secrets here, don't we? Nobody tells anybody anything.

Let me explain why Eragon didn't try to protect himself from being tracked. You know, when he travels, he has this tendency of thinking intensely about a mysterious elf-lady by a body of water, or maybe about an elf clad in all black that saved his life. Twice, probably. And probably you understand that moving on his two feet, or sitting on the back of a horse that is moving on it's four hooves puts him in a mood to think of these things, no matter how set he is on putting as much distance as physically possible between himself and the army. If that made sense, and you didn't have to reread it, give yourself a pat on the back and predict the end of this fiction in a review. If you're right, you won't have to wait until I finish to know what happens.

Anyways, he figures that she's the elf-in-black, and he wants to meet this elf-in-black. So he plunges onward, waiting for the elf-in-black to make a wrong move so he can catch this elf and find out what's going on with the whole, being followed, and saving his life, and all that great stuff. If you had an unknown stalker that happened to help you left and right, you'd want to know if s/he was actually a stalker or some sort of mysterious admirer who knew too much, or maybe an old grandpa that came from the future to tell him what to do or...

"Bid'Daum, you can stop telling me who the elf-in-black might be," Eragon rolled his eyes, and contemplated making camp or looking for a real chipmunk to eat.

"The elf-in-black might be a famous chef who brought you fruits so you don't have to resort to animal-ism!"

"Bid'Daum. Animal-ism? Like cannibalism but for animals?"

"You're good at this. Oooh! Maybe the elf-in-black is really a secret agent sent from the dragons to kill you and get the egg back. Hah!"

"Bid'Daum. Shut. Up. Or tell me why I shouldn't eat animals, do something useful besides waste energy on plot paths we've already traversed upon."

"Ooooh, being fancy are we Mister I-am-too-good-to-have-an-imaginary-friend-that-is-secretly-evil-Pants. Animals are friends, not food. You wouldn't even know how to make the muscles edible. You'd probably eat the venom-sacks and kill yourself. That is why you shouldn't eat animals. You're not a dwarf!" Bid'Daum could make anything sound bad.

"You sure about that?" Eragon asked, stomach rumbling. "It wouldn't hurt to learn how to eat like one, considering the fact that we may need their help in the future and it's polite to eat what's set in front of you."

Bid'Daum laughed heartily. "I'm playing with you, kid. You'd make a great dwarf. You're not only short for your age, but everyone chooses you last for the army, and then they give you a measely position because they don't want you becoming a hero. You know how it is," Bid'Daum shrugged playfully.

"Come on, I know you have some sort of idea on how to catch, cook and eat a rabbit. Or a wolf. Or a bear." There was bound to be _some _sort of animal to eat somewhere.

"Or we could have scrambled dragon-eggs for supper," Bid'Daum suggested smugly.

"NOT funny," Eragon snarled, appetite gone.

"Really? I found it absolutely _hilarious,_" Bid'Daum laughed mockingly.


	15. Chapter 15

**Here we go! Right back on track where we belong :P Please review, people! It gives me a reason to finish this fanfic... considering there's no suspense; we all know Eragon will raise the dragon and save the two races...**

In the end, Eragon decided that he was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat a food group that he had never consumed before. He would wait until tomorrow, if ever, to have his first bite of meat. Because that night Eragon had full intentions to find the elf-in-black that was following him, and force that elf to reveal all the secrets there were to be revealed.

When the Sun began to set, he decided that he would sleep on the ground, to try and lure the elf-in-black into a more vulnerable position. Besides, it's easier to create a temporary shelter on the ground than in a tree. The weather wasn't looking very good either, the temperature was dropping rapidly and the wind was getting stronger.

"He'll probably sleep in the trees if he sleeps at all. I'm convinced that our dear-little-friend was sent to kill you. He'll take your life and return to his boss. No need for him to sleep then, and he'll get out of here before a blizzard hits." Eragon chuckled at his coarse joke, directed solely at an irked Bid'Daum.

"Oh, he'll sleep all right. Just like you slept when you were tracking the dragon. Close, but not too close, and only half-asleep really. He's tracking you for some reason or another, remember? And he'll find a way to outlast the storm." Bid'Daum's logic shone through. "Your plan should be to do the same."

"You're right. Those clouds aren't looking friendly, and the Sun won't be out for another hour. I'm going to make a snow-fort."

"With what? You didn't bring _anything_ except for your sword, bow and faelnirv."

"Magic." Eragon smiled, stopping in his tree. He looked down at the icy snow, uninviting and sparkling in the Sun's light.

He stretched out his hand, drawing an image in his mind and he fiddled with several ideas of constructing the most protective home. Who knew how long a storm could last? He had to outlast it.

"Make sure you think to put firewood in it. Easy or not to see you, we don't want you freezing to death," Bid'Daum commented, shivering at the thought.

"Or suffocating to death." Eragon smiled again. Bid'Daum was becoming more of a parrot on his shoulder than a part of him. He hadn't had an imaginary friend for _years. _He had kind of missed it.

He decided to construct an igloo. With waves of his hands and the direction of the ancient language he quickly cut blocks out of the snow and set them upon each other in a spiral, leaving two holes on the sides with one large enough to climb through, and an orifice on the top.

When he was finished on the construction he leapt down and went about looking for firewood. There was hardly any light left, the temperatures were dropping and the winds were rising steadily. He searched fast, and grabbed whatever there was, fit for firewood or not. He now had magic, and he was skilled with it too. Anything would burn under a spell from him.

Predictably, he made it into the igloo as the Sun disappeared from view and had a fire going within minutes.

"I bet our follower had the sense to imitate us," Eragon murmured, looking out of the door and seeing the snow whip around.

"Invisibly. No secrets will be divulged to-night."

Eragon did not say anything more, but sat still watching the effects of the wind through the tangoing tongues of flame.

"Eragon!" a voice pierced the wind, barely. Eragon's head shot up, as though that would help him hear better.

"It seems our follower not only was ill prepared to fight this, but knows your name also," Bid'Daum said smugly.

"Eragon!" the voice came again, a little closer, a little more desperate.

"You should leave him," Bid'Daum suggested. "Kill him while he's weak."

"No," Eragon whispered, clambering around the fire, deciding to help only because Bid'Daum told him not to.

"Oi! This way!" he shouted. He made it out the door and stood up. He started waving his arms, until he spotted a hunched figure making his way through the gloom. "Right here!" For a moment Eragon wondered how smart it was to do this. Strangely, he thought of Bid'Daum as an entirely separate entity, lying inside, too proud to save a stranger. Separate. Unnecessary and easy prey. "You don't pay rent and you don't stay around to do me any good," Eragon thought to the person inside, warming himself by the fire. "I'm going to kick you out and claim myself one day. You better be ready."

The figure came next to him, looked up and asked,

"May I please join you?"

"Would I respond if I had any other intent?" he answered, stepping aside to let his guest enter first.

"Why should you have responded anyways? You know they say on this night the ghosts visit from the afterlife." He didn't know that's what they said, but he didn't mention it. He crawled in after his guest, breathing deeply in anticipation.

He closed up the door, keeping it loose enough for air flow. He saw his company huddle near the fire, breathing deeply in relief. He turned and took off his hood, staying silent.

"Who are you?" he asked in a low voice, curiosity hidden well behind his mask.

"An idiot." The voice was definitely feminine. Eragon's ears perked up, wondering if this was the maiden by the river. She looked up at him, then looked sharply away. He hadn't been able to see her face, so he sat and waited patiently. "Okay, before we say anything else, I'm sorry for not saying anything before." She pulled her hood back.

"Eliana?" Whoa. Backtrack. What? "How long have you been following me?"

"Hmmm... well, it's easy to lose track of things when you're spying on somebody, but I'd say about... I don't know, six months? You've only been doing interesting things for the past 12 hours or so. Like escaping on the trees. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I really can't tell you why no one has thought of that before." Eragon relaxed as Eliana went on, talking quickly and... nervously? Eragon allowed himself a sly grin. She wasn't the elf-in-black. Not apparently.

"You did this of your own accord, correct? Nobody told you to?" Eragon had to know how much the Queen knew of this.

"Well... some of my officers thought that learning from you would be smart, and that's when I began observing you. You talk to yourself a lot, is that for lack of an intelligent person to have a conversation with or is there a reason for that? I promise I had no malicious intent, I was just curious! Of course, when you started talking to yourself about magic and protecting yourself from a baby dragon... I became a little more curious, and suspicious enough to stalk you." She grimaced at herself. "That sounds so bad! I was just watching to see what it was that you knew that I didn't, what the Queen saw in you that I apparently didn't have. I'm sorry," she whispered it now, wrapping herself tightly in her now wet jacket.

"I forgive you. If you're willing to commit insubordination with me," Eragon whispered too, leaning forward.


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm back into the swing... until school starts... it'll be a little rocky for a while. Just so you know. You've been warned. Can't say I didn't tell you to watch out. Anyways. Enjoy, and please review!**

"So it's true? You do have a baby dragon? You're going to try and raise it so that we have an enemy as an ally?"

His entire plan sounded a lot more bizarre when somebody else said it.

That fact stunned him—what was he doing out here anyways? He could barely take care of himself sometimes, what was he thinking, that he could keep a baby dragon alive as well? The creature would probably eat him for breakfast!

"Count me in," Eliana took her dripping coat off, and laid it down by the fire. "I see you don't really have a detailed plan at this point. Care to share what you have in mind?"

"Get a good distance from the Elvish army, speed up the hatching process through magic, befriend the hatchling... and that's about as far as I have it," Eragon confessed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back against the ice.

"Befriend the hatchling and then go throughout the land proclaiming your feat to the races," Eliana nodded, also leaning back. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

"We've never had a plan, ignoramus. You just made that up. I can't believe you," Bid'Daum snarled in Eragon's head.

"Shut up," Eragon snarled back, trying to hide his dual personality from his new ally. Aloud, he said "Yeah... as good as any plan involving baby dragons can be."

"It sure is an adventure," Eliana smirked looking casually over at the egg on the floor. "May I hold it?"

"Sure, why not? It doesn't belong to me or anything. I stole it. I'm a thief," Eragon muttered, contemplating all the different ways his plan could go wrong as Eliana took the egg in her hands and began analyzing it. She rapped on it with her fist, and a clear ringing noise came from it.

"I highly doubt you stole an egg from underneath a mommy dragon's nose without getting pulverized," Eliana responded teasingly, rapping on the egg again, fascinated by the bell-like sound.

"I suppose I did kill the guardian dragon first," Eragon conceded, watching the egg guardedly. Maybe he did feel a trace of fatherly protection towards the hatchling.

"How many dragons did you kill that night?" Eliana asked it quietly, cautiously avoiding his gaze as she immersed herself in the perfection of the egg.

"Enough to give me some sort of compassion towards a white rock," Eragon said.

"A very nice white rock at that," Eliana added, putting the egg back where it was next to the bottle.

"Whether or not it is a nice rock, I am surely barmy and gone mad in the head," Eragon put his head in his hands, the absurdity of it all coming down on him. "I don't know _anything_ about baby dragons! I mean, I could tell you how to kill them with a word or where they are most vulnerable, but when they hatch? What they eat? If they'll hatch at all in the presence of an elf, let alone two."

"Well, one has to find out somehow. One way or another, I bet the little guy will hatch," Eliana spoke soothingly, curling up by the wall, facing the fire. "Don't worry about it, just let it happen. For now, worrying will only keep you awake, and if you intend to get anywhere tomorrow, you'll need your rest. Especially if you want to find anything edible in these woods." Eliana frowned a little.

"That's another way to look at things," Eragon muttered, taking his coat off and laying it next to Eliana's.

"I'll watch the fire for the first half of the night, and I'll wake you when it's your turn. I'd hate to roast in my sleep," he said. "And I'm sure there's something worthy of your appetite between the trees."

Eliana grinned at that, and closed her eyes. He was bluffing. He hadn't brought any sort of nourishment besides his enchanted drink. She had been smarter than that. Her rations would provide a fair enough breakfast, in any case. They would probably have to resort to eating meat in the end, if they wanted to survive until Spring.

"And he knows it too," she thought.

She didn't want to sleep, she had so many other questions, ideas, things going on in her mind, but she pushed those aside and forced sleep upon her mind. It seemed that only a moment had passed when she awoke to Eragon gently shaking her.

"Sorry, I want to sleep too," he said as she was sitting up. As she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, he turned and promptly fell asleep.

"So much for any chit-chat in the meantime," she thought amusedly. The fire had died considerably. She stuck her face near the opening in the wall could feel a trickle of wind coming through. She couldn't tell what time it was, but allowed her mind to roam freely as she ensured her wakefulness.

Her gaze kept returning to Eragon. Only an hour asleep and his hair was already a disheveled mess, one side flat, the other sticking out at various angles. He kept whimpering quietly, turning from one side to the other. She kept alert in case he should get too close to the fire.

His foot bumped into his pile of items, causing the egg to roll towards her. She gently stopped it from moving, and put it into her lap.

Part of her didn't want to believe this was real, that she might be working against everything she had ever fought for, that she was actually going to work in league with Eragon. He had actually earned his status as hero—she had broken the rules and had followed the Queen, and thanks to pure chance her force had come upon the elvish remnant and saved their lives.

The other part of her watched Eragon sleep and knew it was one-hundred percent real. She was taking a risk, with all calculations going against her, and she was doing it willingly. She _wanted_ to help this hero face the odds.

Truth be told, she wanted to help this hero face the odds and come back victorious. He turned again, and his face, contorted in his dream faced her.

Maybe he was barmy. Maybe this was madness. Well, she could be barmy too. And there was no doubt that she was absolutely crazy. Weird and abnormal wasn't anything new to her.

Of course, Eragon's doubts were all sound. There really was no guarantee that the dragon would hatch. Or that it wouldn't shred them to bits as soon as it did. Or any and all of the above wouldn't turn out to be four times better than what would happen. Maybe they would disappear and no one would care to find out why.

If they didn't come back, no one would be capable of finding out why. Eragon's method of travel made him nigh impossible to track, even when using the same method. No one else would even think of running through the tree branches, and even if they did think of it, there wouldn't be any way to track him from there. He left no traces.

And neither did she.

She hadn't told anyone, much the same as he hadn't told anyone. The Queen would assume that they had both committed insubordination. That was the logical solution to their disappearance, wasn't it? Or aliens. Aliens-

A loud squeak pierced the silence, startling Eliana to her feet.


	17. Chapter 17

**BTW school is beginning so writing will be hard to squeeze into my schedule, be patient as I get the hang of things :) Thanks for reading and please review.**

She had dropped the egg, and stared at it for a long minute while Eragon tossed and turned, oblivious to the events unfolding right across from him. Gingerly, she picked it up again, and sat down (Eragon hadn't exactly made the roof very high.)

Her interest was now divided between Eragon's restless sleep and the squeaking egg. It came to her mind that she could also crawl out to check the time. Her gaze fell first on the egg in her hands, and then onto Eragon, who was lying still for once. Her interest in the time disappeared when the egg squeaked once more.

"What do you want?" she asked the egg.

It lay silent in her lap.

"Silence, eh?" she said, looking up as Eragon whimpered some more. Concern was etched quite plainly on her face, and she continued talking to the egg.

"He certainly does have some rather interesting sleep patterns," she murmured, watching him turn one way, then the other. "Who is he to you? Kidnapper? Hero?"

She grabbed a stick and moved the fire a bit, reviving some dying embers. That was why she was awake right now, to make sure it stayed alive but didn't burn Eragon up. And to babysit a dragon egg.

"And who are you going to grow into? A hero? A savior to the races?" The sheer magnitude of this venture was getting to her. The war at this rate was going to end with the total annihilation of one of the species. "I wish I could shoot Logan right now. Or go into the past and do the honors, before he messed up our lives."

Eragon awoke to a loud squeak in his ear.

"Whaaaa?" He sat up within the blink of an eye, with his bottle of faelnirv clutched tightly in his hand.

"You've got yourself a sharp sword there, Eragon-elda," Eliana laughed, picking up her coat out from underneath his head. "Squeaky is just trembling in pure terror from the ferocity of your weapon choice."

"Squeaky?" Eragon asked, returning the said weapon of terror to the floor in an attempt to cover up his confusion.

"The egg. It squeaks unless you're talking to it. I think it likes the sound of voices," Eliana explained, putting her coat on.

"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing his own coat.

"I want to see the aftereffects of last night's snow storm," she responded. "Besides, it's your turn to talk to the egg. It's very humiliating." She crawled out without giving him a chance to respond.

"I thought you were calling him Squeaky," he said, putting his coat on, grabbing the egg and following her out.

"Well, Squeaky is a good name for a pet. Not a dragon. If you were to name a dragon, it needs to be noble. Or majestic. Or some really random name that has no meaning whatsoever."

He stood up and zipped his coat, putting the egg inside to keep it warm. He looked up to find Eliana standing contentedly against the side of his igloo.

"You could've waited for the Sun to rise before waking me up," he muttered, stretching.

"I had no intentions of waking you up. Squeaky just didn't like the idea of me watching the sunrise without him," Eliana grimaced. "I really shouldn't get used to calling him Squeaky." She walked over to a tree after a moment, and climbed up, sitting quite high on the branches.

"Him?" Eragon queried, marveling the snow drifts and the way the pre-sunlight was twinkling off of the snow.

"Female intuition," Eliana responded smugly.

"Motherly intuition is more like it," Eragon countered, clambering up a tree a safe distance away.

A snowball smacked him on the side of the face, and he nearly lost his balance. The egg tumbled out of the tree and landed in the snow with a very loud squeak.

"I think Squeaky suits his personality very well," he said, leaping down the tree to recover the dragon baby.

"Surely you can come up with a name better than Squeaky," Eliana looked away from the east long enough to give him a piercing look.

"How about Eragon the Second?" he suggested, climbing up Eliana's tree in order to fend off any more potential snowballs.

"Oh please. Originality maybe?" she rolled her eyes and absentmindedly packed another snowball together.

Eragon hastily made his way up the last few branches and knocked the snowball away before sitting on a branch above his new traveling buddy.

"Okay, okay. How about Echendath? Or Ingtan? Essvor-sul? Bid'Daum?" Eragon couldn't say why he added Bid'Daum to the list, and Squeaky made a very loud squeak on all the names but Bid'Daum.

"See? You can come up with half decent names when you want. Random, crazy, ridiculous, sure, but half decent all the same. Bid'Daum is out though."

Squeaky squeaked very loudly at that.

"So Mother-of-a-dragon, care to explain what that squeak meant?" Eragon said, leaning against the trunk and watching the Sun creep up.

"Well Step-Daddy-of-a-dragon, I think it means that the egg finds something interesting in that name."

"Step-Daddy-of-a-dragon," Eragon muttered, swiping some snow off of the trunk onto Eliana.

"Hey!"

"How about we stick to Squeaky, okay?" Eragon said, laughing as Eliana wiped snow off of herself.

"How about you admit my superiority as a female and just let me watch the Sun in peace," she suggested, settling down on her branch.

Eragon laughed, and soon Eliana had joined him. She was allowed to watch the Sun rise in peace, and soon after that she offered breakfast. Eragon was relieved, he didn't find the thought of a flask of drink between two would make a good breakfast. They left with satisfied stomachs about an hour after the Sun had left the horizon.

Their travel lasted through the day, but by the time the Sun began its descent they had made the decision that in the morning they would begin their new omnivorous diet.

Together they crafted an igloo with two separate rooms, and watched the sunset from a tree, with Squeaky squeaking safely inside of Eragon's compartment.


	18. Chapter 18

**Moving on... gotta get this here finished! I don't want to move too fast though... what do you think?**

Eragon awoke in the morning to Squeaky squeaking. Eliana was sitting in the doorway, intently observing the egg.

Eragon sat up as he saw Squeaky violently rocking back and forth, emitting the high pitched squeals that had earned the egg its name.

"I can't decide why he's rocking. I think it might have something to do with the temperature. But I don't know," Eliana said.

The egg paused in its furious vibrations for a moment after Eliana spoke, and then began rocking again, squeaks shattering their ears.

"We're only two days away from the elvish camp," Eragon said, trying to formulate a plan. "We definitely need more distance, because no matter how impossible to track we are, if they decide they want to travel the distance will dissipate and like as not, we'll be found."

"Isn't it better to be nearby though? In case something happens?"

"Think about it. We're outlaws now," Eragon began, before Eliana cut him off.

"We've disappeared for two days. That doesn't automatically give you the status of an outlaw."

"We've got an egg that looks like it will be hatching any moment now. Truth be told, I've been an outlaw since the night of the battle. You just found out yesterday. Just because you didn't know doesn't change the fact that I was, am. And now, because you're working with me, you too are an outlaw."

"Fair enough, but just because _I_ know I'm an outlaw doesn't mean that they do," Eliana argued, standing and crossing her arms.

"If we can't take care of ourselves, then we have failed this mission. If we need outside help, then we did something wrong," Eragon took a deep breath. "Success relies on nobody knowing. If we're not totally self-sustainable, able to rely on only what we have the capacity to do, then there's no point. I should spike Squeaky this instant."

As soon as Eragon spoke, the egg was still. They both looked at it, and Eliana sighed and sat down again.

"Don't sit," Eragon chided, "We're leaving." And with that he stood, stuffed his items and the egg in his sack and exited. Eliana followed him after just a moment.

"And how far is far enough? Dragon territory? There isn't a no-mans-land, Eragon. We're either in danger of being found by elves, or by dragons, no matter where we are. Who would you rather discover you?"

"Us you mean."

Eliana paused as she climbed up after him.

"Us. Personally, I'd rather have elves find us, because they can't afford to kill us. They're recruiting younger and younger, older and older. There's hardly anyone left in our cities anymore. They're all on the front."

It was Eragon's turn to pause.

"The smaller towns will be abandoned," Bid'Daum whispered inside of his head. "Completely. Nobody left, just the houses. You can live in comfort, and the dragon can get used to civilized structures as well as the wild."

"What about the towns?" He asked Eliana, sitting on a branch and looking down at her. "If there's hardly anyone left in the cities, how many are there in the towns?" Eragon thought briefly of his own home, located in the capital. They couldn't go there. There were few enough elves in the cities, how much fewer elsewhere?

"Most of them were destroyed by dragon offensives. There might be one or two left in a civil condition. And those will have grown to a considerable size by now. The towns are hospital centers for soldiers too wounded to go into battle." Eliana scrutinized Eragon's face, and said, "Your best bet is not to go find an old abandoned shack. It's to stay on the run, not here or there, committing your bed to no place."

Eragon was surprised by the coldness of her words and looked up from his hands. Eliana was looking out to the clouds, expression unreadable. He hadn't seen her like this.

"Is that your philosophy?" he asked, wondering if that mightn't be the cause of tension between her and the Queen. "Commit to no home?"

"My home town was destroyed because the people were not willing to hear the warnings of the dragon forces. They did not want to leave their homes, and that stubbornness to stay put killed my friends. My father now has a permanent address in a hospital several leagues away, because he wouldn't flee while there was a chance to flee." Eliana reluctantly returned her gaze to Eragon. "My philosophy is to test circumstances and take logical actions based on the facts."

"So what sort of logic sent you sneaking after me?" He was watching her face closely.

Her expression quickly went from alarmed to smug. She molded a snowball and tossed it threateningly into the air.

"The kind of logic that can only be described as whimsical. Now," she said, polishing the projectile, "weren't we meant to be getting along?"

"We're getting along fine! Sure, in the fort it was a little tense, but that's understandable, no one wants to be called a criminal—" He was stopped by a snowball in the face.

"I meant on the move, Snowface," Eliana smirked, leaping onto a new tree.

Eragon had no response to that, and jumped after her, determined to be the one in charge of their direction.

Eliana had a good effect on Eragon. She kept Bid'Daum down, and she always seemed to say something if he ever reared his ugly head. Eragon simply didn't have enough time to allow Bid'Daum a moment of speech.

Talking only slowed them down slightly, and they made speed that astonished even the pessimistic side of Eragon. Every day put a surprising distance between them and civilization.

Eragon was getting better at keeping the relief of having company from showing. He showed the side of him that acted based on "this is our last chance, we can use it or lose it," but the rest of him was feeling less dramatic and confused and a lot more hopeful. When the pair became too out of breath for talking, he wondered just exactly how much hope he should be showing.

He considered his heart like a home, with a fence. Sometimes you opened the gate for your neighbors. Some neighbors you talk to over the fence, they only see the outside of your house, some neighbors you invite inside and they see the living room. Each neighbor sees a different part of your house. There are maybe a few people in the world that know the whole house, that know the real you. The rest only know a certain side, a certain room in the house, and he wasn't sure which rooms he was willing to show his partner in crime.

They traveled far, the traveled quickly and each day Squeaky surprised them with something new. Eliana began to discern different squeaks, though she had no clue what each one translated to.

Then one night as Eragon was about to fall asleep, a faint rumbling noise came from the egg and a crack appeared the length of the shell.


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm thinking about changing the chapter structure... longer chapters, fewer updates. What do you think?**

Eragon gave a loud gasp of surprise which woke up the lady on the other side of the curtain and brought her head poking through the wall.

Another crack appeared on the shell's surface as though from nowhere, and both of them remained still as stone as they watched, transfixed by the event. Cracks began running here and there at a swift speed, so fast that it was only a second since the second crack that the whole shell fell apart in hundreds of pieces upon a small, white body.

This time they both gasped.

If this was a movie, the egg would have blasted apart, chiseling the walls of the igloo and miraculously missing the casual observers. Fortunately, the written word doesn't need to lie to the audience about an event as common as this one.

The dragon lifted its neck and squeaked, a shiver running down its spine and dropping off all of the egg shards. It lifted its wings, which stretched from one wall to another and flapped them, as though to make sure they worked. Its head swiveled to face Eragon, one white eye meeting his.

Eragon paled, closing his mouth and clenching his fists. The dragon was as white as the snow around it, and if you didn't know it was there or what it was you might just have mistaken it for a hare that had snuck in to stay warm, peeping out to see if the coast was clear.

The dragon squeaked again, and padded over to Eragon, nosing his hand and sniffing his clothes. Smoke trickled out of its nostrils, alarming Eragon greatly. His breath came faster, and his hands shook gently.

"I don't care what you think," Eliana whispered gently. "We have _got_ to find a better name for him than Squeaky."

The dragon turned his gaze to Eliana now. Eragon couldn't stop shaking, not even after the dragon had folded his wings and padded across to Eliana. She held out her hand, palm up, enthralled by the creature.

Eragon thanked the stars for his companion, had he been alone he probably would've killed the poor beast. She already seemed to know just what to do: the dragon laid its head on her hand and began rumbling. Eragon knew that meant it was content, or close to the dragon version of happy; he had spent enough time observing the creatures to know that.

"We can always think of a better name as it matures," he replied, putting his hands on his knees and slowly leaning towards the door so he could make a quick getaway if necessary.

"If you're going to use _Squeaky's_ name at all," Eliana retorted, stroking the dragon's frills. He snapped up, narrowly missing her hand. "No! Bad! Bad dragon!" She shook her finger at him, and his tail whipped back and forth on the ground, like a cat. His head snapped up, missing her finger again.

"Squeaky understands fingers are food, and doesn't speak elf. He's not a mutt," Eragon offered, leaning back into the center of the room. He couldn't desert a lady to the teeth of a dragon. "Try squeaking at him."

Eliana and Squeaky turned their gazes to Eragon with a sorrowful look in their eye.

"Look," Eliana said, as Squeaky squeaked. "He can't speak elf, but do dragons squeak? No. They don't. They rumble, or they roar. Or growl. Honestly, have you _ever_ heard a dragon squeak?"

"Squeaky is a dragon. And what do we call him? _Squeaky_," Eragon threw his hands in the air, but quickly returned them to his knees when he saw the dragon lift its head in anticipation. "So dragons do squeak. How do you think the little dragons communicate? By squeaking, most likely."

"Do I look like a little dragon, Eragon?" Eliana asked him, sitting in the doorway that connected their rooms. "No. We're elves. And we should talk like elves, act like elves, do everything we would do if Squeaky weren't here."

"No. If we do that, Squeaky will grow up thinking he's an elf. Does he look like an elf? No! And sorry, but I might put my hands up if Squeaky wasn't here, but since he is there is no way I'm going to let him _eat me_."

Squeaky looked up at the two elves and rumbled some more, curling up around himself next to the fire, snorting smoke out as he nestled his head underneath his wings.

"Whoa, what's he doing?" Eragon asked, watching the dragon intently, expecting it to leap upon him and try to bite his nose off.

"Look at him! It looks as though he's going to sleep," Eliana answered, smiling at the little bag of scales in the middle of the room.

Eragon let out a huff of frustration at himself. Duh. That's exactly what it looked like.

"Well, if he's sleeping, so should we—uh—you should get some sleep while I make sure he doesn't go around eating us while we're helpless," Eragon stuttered, anxiety ringing through his voice.

"You know, I'm thinking it's a good thing I came along, or you'd leave him outside to freeze for fear of him snuggling up to you while you slept," Eliana said amusedly, looking at Eragon's determined expression. "We can trade rooms if you're uncomfortable with sleeping in the same room as him."

"No. We could trade rooms, but we're still keeping watch over him. The last thing we need is to lose our limbs to some starving hatchling," Eragon tried to shove his nervousness away, but failed miserably.

"Speaking of starving," Eliana sighed, grasping at her stomach, "He's not the only one who could use a bite. Perhaps someone should go about providing food? We're not invincible, we have to eat eventually."

Eragon grinned, glad to have a reason to leave.

"Here's the deal then, I'll go kill some poor innocent mammal, roast it over the fire and then Squeaky will be able to have breakfast and we can survive another day without keeling over tomorrow. You stay and make sure you don't lose anything to the starving trap of that lizard. Sound like a plan?" Eragon was halfway out the door at this point, bow in hand.

"Sounds like a plan that will have to do," Eliana smiled and waved goodbye to the hunter.

"I guess it had to come to this eventually," Eragon thought to himself. "Meat." To be honest, the trees had started to look mighty scrumptious that afternoon as the ran through them. They had made it about seven days without a bite, just a sip of faelnirv every morning. Eliana was right, Squeaky would be hungry, and they wouldn't be able to last much longer on his near-empty bottle.

He strung his bow quickly and jumped into a tree, nocking an arrow to the string and walking on the branches, eyes alert for any sign of movement. The moon was bright, and though he knew nothing of hunting, he figured his prospects were quite hopeful.

A twig snapped several meters away and suddenly the bow was taut, the arrow loosed, and as more noise came from below Eragon dashed through the tree branches.


	20. Chapter 20 and an Apology

**As usual, I am late. I am really bad at sticking with this fanfic. REALLY bad. So I apologize. Again. Hopefully the New Year's Resolution will keep the chapters coming at least twice a month... of course at that rate the story will be done before the Summer vacations! Yay! That will be a happy day, should it come to pass ;) So... please don't kill me? Thank you sincerely for not... killing me. (Or is it too late to apologize?)**

The hunter returned an hour later, with a doe over his shoulder.

Squeaky had been sleeping innocently as ever, scales reflecting on the walls from the fire, fluctuating as he breathed, making him look like a giant jewel on display.

Eliana had been analyzing the situation from the moment she had heard Eragon's gasp. She knew he was extremely wary of the dragon, and she knew that in many ways he was right. There had to be a way to communicate, because elvish had clearly not been doing the trick.

She was remembering stories her father had told her of magic and the forest, how her father had seen the forest but been at home, how her father had been a squirrel, a bird, an ant, running along the leafy floor even as he sat on the sitting chair when Eragon popped his head through the door and asked for advice.

She crawled outside of the igloo and saw his catch, laid out lifelessly on the snow. Eragon wanted to know how they should cut it, which parts to keep and if they should keep the hide and how and what etc.

"You expect me to know any more than you do on the subject?" she asked him, and he just shrugged and said,

"You have to eat too, and I'm not sure you'd like to eat this." He held up an unidentifiable yellow blob of... well, it was unidentifiable, so Eliana didn't want to know what it was.

"Um... don't you just eat the meat?" she asked timidly, thinking of the dwarves and how proud they were of their roasts.

"That's the question, is this meat, or is this just some internal organ?" Eragon shook his head and tossed the object away into the snow. "I've got this feeling that anything Squeaky will eat, we can too, but if he eats _that_, he can have the whole thing."

"Let's not eat the internal organs, please," Eliana said weakly, the sight of the deer guts all over the snow not doing anything wonderful for her dead stomach.

"Nah. I think dwarves define meat as muscles. So that's what we'll eat," Eragon had cut off all the skin, and had placed that a safe distance away from all of the organs, muscles and bones. "And I think they add spices to their meat too. I was thinking we can use the last swallow of the faelnirv and add it to water if we boil the meat in water..."

"How else are you going to boil something if not in water?" she asked to get her mind off of the task Eragon was working at.

"Magic," Eragon said, wiping his hands off in the snow. The bones still had chunks of muscle and tendon hanging on to them, and the hide was far from clear of remaining deer-parts.

"That is disgusting. Talk to you when you're finished," Eliana grimaced and ducked inside.

Eragon sat back and wiped at his face with the clean part of his sleeve.

"Leave all the gross things to the men, shall we?" He looked at the mess sitting around him in the snow. "Boiling won't be an option, we don't have a pot. Guess it'll be over the fire for us..."

He cleaned the hide and packed it into a block of snow, tossing the bones and leftover meat a safe distance from their igloo so the scavengers could feast without any disturbances.

Standing up, he looked about for some sort of spear that could be placed over the fire, and two branches with prongs. A frozen branch caught his eye, and for the sake of practice he broke it off with a simple spell. He stabbed the larger portions of muscle and hid the rest in another snow-block. He searched for two y-shaped sticks, and after finding two that satisfied him he crawled into their home cautiously, eyes latching onto the dragon as soon as they spotted it.

Wordlessly, he stabbed the pronged sticks into the snow at opposite ends of the fire, and balanced the spear on them, creating a makeshift spit. He slid the meat to the center of the branch where the heat was more concentrated.

"I see Squeaky sleeps." Eragon began to ever-so-slowly twist the spit, causing the meat to rotate.

"Since you're so amazing at noticing such a great and simple thing about him, perhaps you could conjure up an appropriate name for him," Eliana remarked, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Eragon said nothing, but watched the flames lick up at the venison. A thousand thoughts poured through his mind, only two or three of them having to do with Eliana's request. He vaguely registered Squeaky rumbling; his thoughts meandered on the bank of an impassible river.

"How are you so sure it's a he?" Eragon finally asked.

"It's the assumption of female intuition," Eliana responded quickly, watching Squeaky intently. "There's no way to check, anyways. My guess will have to do."

Eragon let his lips curve into a smile. Eliana had a self assurance of her correctness that inspired him.

"Since you're so sure, I guess my suggestions will be male. How about... Prometheus?" His grin faded as his mind took on the challenge of a decent name. "Eleazar? Frawn? Untrow?"

"Too average," Eliana responded, putting her chin on her knees as she watched Eragon struggle with his imagination.

"Ropter? Danivus? Cornelius? Oh come on!" He grinned as Eliana shook her head ever so slightly at each of his new suggestions. "Why have I been charged with coming up with a name? I'm sure you have some good ideas!"

"You need to have a connection with this dragon, and a good way for that to happen is for you to name him. Continue," she said with a wave of her hand, and Eragon's brain began storming anew.

"Kruther? Ashian? Hm."

"Hm is not a name," Eliana snickered.

"You know," Bid'Daum could not resist commenting, "as easily as you gave me a name, you sure are having a hard time right now. Is it because it has to please... a lady?"

"You know what, Bid'Daum? You can just—" Eragon's thought stopped abruptly, and cautiously, he suggested again,

"Bid'Daum?"

Inside Bid'Daum was shrieking that Eragon had no right to give away his name, to make him a blasted dragon and no longer a part of Eragon's consciousness. Eragon smirked smugly when Eliana didn't shake her head immediately, and shut out Bid'Daum's protest.

"It's quite different from all your other proposals," she said slowly.

"That's because it's the dumbest-sounding name I could come up with on a night I'd rather not remember," he thought to himself.

"It actually sounds pretty dumb," Eliana frowned, "but it would suit him well I think."

"Take that Bid'Daum! You're a dragon," Eragon laughed at the sleeping lizard on the other side of the fire. Then, turning to Eliana, he asked, "How the blazes does a name suit someone?"

Eliana smiled, and eyed the meat hungrily, but gave no answer.

"Well?" Eragon added a moment later.

"It's a well kept secret. You're only allowed in on it if you know the secret."

Eragon stopped rotating the spit and stared at her dubiously.

"So how does one get in on this kind of a secret?"

Eliana smiled smugly and said one word: "A secret kind of magic."

With a huff of amused frustration, Eragon rolled his eyes and returned his eyes to the meal.

"How does one learn the secret magic?"

"By knowing the secret."

"You're just trying to annoy me," Eragon grunted, twisting the spit violently.

"I'm trying to not focus on my growling stomach," Eliana protested.

Eragon rolled his eyes yet again, and they bantered in a slightly more friendly manner for until their first meal of meat was done. It was a chore _not_ to scarf it down within a minute, but with a lot of effort they managed and were satiated by the time they were done. Bid'Daum slept peacefully, and Eragon was content with this solution to his schizophrenia. The annoying voice was no longer present in his mind, and he was also more relaxed with having a dragon sleeping next to him—with having Bid'Daum sleeping next to him.

Eliana napped until sunrise, and Eragon dozed on and off while roasting the rest of the meat so that it wouldn't rot raw. When the light was penetrating the icy sheets about them Eragon began packing, allowing Bid'Daum and Eliana to remain asleep for another twelve minutes.

Bid'Daum was awake first, and he pawed around looking for the meat. Eragon tossed him a few chunks, which the little dragon eagerly pounced at. Eliana was awakened by a steady vibration coming from the chest of a fed reptile.

"He's awake, I see," she muttered sleepily, sitting up and giving the baby dragon a once-over. "A little violent, isn't he?"

Bid'Daum was growling at his reflection in the ice, snapping his tiny jaw together angrily and trying to head-butt the smart-alecky dragon in the mirror. How dare it mimic him so!

"He's practically crackling with magic though," Eragon remarked. In his mind's eye, he could see the waves of magical power rippling out of the creature, causing it to seem to glow. "I'm surprised he hasn't exploded."

"He's a dragon. How many exploded dragons have _you_ seen?"

Eragon was about to answer, but Eliana cut him off.

"Didn't think so. He'll probably explode us sooner than himself. Dragons can breathe fire you know."

Instead of making a remark about ice and fire not going well together, Eragon suggested that they get on the move. The elf camp was still presumably within a reasonable distance—all the more unreasonable thanks to their newly hatched cargo.

Neither of them thought that carrying a baby dragon was such a good idea, so they stepped outside to discuss travel plans. Bid'Daum stumbled into the daylight and blinked twice, looking around him. Apparently he had taught his reflection a lesson.

"Maybe he'll just follow us," Eliana suggested hopefully.

"He might, but he probably can't go as quickly as we need to," Eragon grunted in reply.

"So what's your recommendation, genius?"

Eragon sighed, lifting his head to the sky. A dozen ideas ran through his head, each more ridiculous than the last. Well, ridiculousness had gotten them into this mess, maybe it would get them out.

"We could make a cage for him, attach it to a pole and carry him that way."

"Right. With what? He can burn through wood you know. Fire kinda does that to sticks," Eliana retorted.

Bid'Daum made a sort of hiccuping noise which returned the attention of the travelers right back to him. He had seen a butterfly and was... well, Eragon wasn't quite sure what Bid'Daum was trying to do. His mouth was open and smoke was pouring out of his nostrils, like the butterfly had made him super mad.

"Eragon..." Eliana said slowly.

"Of course! He's too young for fire! I hope," Eragon added as an afterthought. But of course, it made sense! Just like young boys can't grow beards, so perchance young dragons couldn't spew fire.

"Eragon!" Eliana yelled. "It's the middle of _Winter,_ or haven't you noticed? What in the _world_ is a _butterfly_ doing here?"

Eragon stopped and stared at the fluttering insect. Eliana was absolutely right. Butterflies didn't stay for Winter. Bid'Daum was still smoking, but now his curiosity had been diverted to a flower sticking its blossom out of the snow. Eragon's mind raced.

"Any theories?" he asked.

"Um. We're all hallucinating because of tainted meat? Bid'Daum killed us last night and there _is_ an afterlife?" Eliana glared at the butterfly and began listing off a dozen plausible reasons for it to be there.

"Where do butterflies go in the Winter, anyways?" Eragon interrupted. Eliana glared at him.

"Where there's no Winter, duh." Eragon saw a shadow in the corner of his eye, and was about to turn. "I think Winter looks a little bit like this," Eliana was saying, but then her voice disappeared and where a snow-covered forest floor was green grass appeared, where their igloo had been a leafy hut appeared, and the flower Bid'Daum had taken interest in turned into a small tree. Her face drained of all color and she crossed her fingers across her chest. "Damn, there's a _reason_ elves don't eat meat! And it's _not_ because we're animal-lovers!"

Eragon kneeled, and let his fingers brush against the grass. The shadow was forgotten, his mind preoccupied by this. Bid'Daum turned towards them, also acting confused. Smoke reeled from his nostrils, covering his eyes with a black screen. A growl came from his chest.

"Eliana, I think that if we were hallucinating we wouldn't know it," Eragon muttered softly.

"Are you suggesting that I'm wrong?"

"I am suggesting that it's not Winter, and that somehow we have stumbled upon a garden of magic, where the conditions are proper for the butterflies to stay for all seasons."

"I'm now convinced you are even more intoxicated than _I_ am!" Eliana exclaimed. Bid'Daum tried to climb a tree, and fell onto his back. Undeterred, he jumped up again and again. Eliana's voice resounded quietly between the two of them, a quiet note of distress glancing her vowels. "Eragon, there is _no way_ someone could do this with magic. And there is _no way_ that if this is magic, the grass stays this short on its own. Either we are super-dead, super-intoxicated, or are about to get zapped by a thunder-cloud for trespassing!"

"Trespassing?" Eragon opened his eyes as an idea crossed his mind. "Eliana..."

"Too late, bird-brain, here comes a sorceress now! I will inconspicuously hide in this igloo made of leaves." Eragon turned and watched as Eliana dived into the hut. This whole sorcery business really had her worried. Eragon looked over in the direction Eliana had pointed to. Sure enough, a tall figure in a white dress approached him. Bid'Daum looked down at him from a branch and growled vociferously.

"She's right, he _is_ a violent character," Eragon thought to himself, glancing up at Bid'Daum. He re-focused his attention to the place he had last seen the sorceress, but saw only an empty, sun-filled glade. "The lady by the water? The silhouette that followed me to the battle with the dragons? An enchantress whose power I will never even be able to dream of?" Eragon was filled with wonder by this person he had never met.

Bid'Daum snarled fiercely, and leaped from his branch. Spreading his wings, he glided down in a spiral quite close to Eragon's feet.

"What the devil are you doing?" he asked the dragon, who made straight for him. "If you take _one more_ step little mister, you are in _soooooo_ much trouble!"

Bid'Daum acted like he hadn't heard, didn't understand, or didn't care and continued waddling towards Eragon with the expression not dissimilar to a mother bear's whose cub is about to be mauled.


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy end of January! Tomorrow is the shortest month of the year! (Or maybe not... who knows!) It's all a mystery... (I'm so confused) Anyhoo, here is the second chapter of the month, as promised. Better later than never, eh? (boy next month will be hectic...)**

Eliana sat with her back towards the door and breathed for a long moment. She hated magic on several levels for several reasons. And now she hated meat too. If she wasn't hallucinating, (she was pretty sure none of that could have happened in the real world) then they were in some serious trouble. It's one thing to fight a dragon—they knew how to fight dragons. It's a totally different thing to fight a sorceress. Whose territory you have just presumably trespassed upon. They don't exactly have the reputation of a kind welcome. Especially not when you have a dragon with you. A baby dragon at that. A cute, innocent, adorably annoying little beast who might not be able to spew fire yet, but would surely eat your arm if it could. How strange. The hair on the back of her neck rose slowly, and with a deep breath she turned around and peered through the leaves.

Right behind Eragon was a dazzlingly beautiful lady. No, scratch that—sorceress. They _do_ have a reputation for extreme beauty or extreme lack of beauty. This one was beautiful, wearing a plain white, sparkling dress. With a black spooky mask covering her head. And she was holding a shiny sword over her head. And if you were to swing that sword down, it would go crashing down—

Right. Into. Eragon's. Head.

Eliana's mind whirred. She caught sight of Bid'Daum glaring at the sorceress (which must have distracted the evil one, because her tense pose loosened considerably) and he leaped down to attack her. Presumably. Eliana silently stood, and loosened her knife in its sheath. Eragon started yelling some nonsense at Bid'Daum, which seemed to bring the sorceress back to her evil plan. Dastardly. Lifting the sword in the air with the air shimmering with magic, Eragon was about to find out if there actually was an afterlife.

Without a second thought Eliana let loose a terrifying battle-cry and leaped through the bush. She grabbed the sorceress's hands, trying to wrench the sword from her grasp. Bid'Daum stopped waddling and began running, using his wings to keep himself balanced, and he sunk his teeth deep into the foot of a distracted evil magic-user. Eliana managed to toss the sword aside, but found herself caught in a choke. The black mask leered in her face, unpleasantly reminding her who she was up against.

Yes, she_ definitely_ hated magic. And this one of the many reasons why.

When Bid'Daum ran past him without even so much as looking twice at him, Eragon realized that he was not the target and swiveled around to find Eliana engaged in a silent wrestling match with the sorceress. He was so shocked that he didn't even react when Bid'Daum took a huge bite out of the magician's leg, much less when the little dragon did it again and again. When Eliana thrust the sword away from the lady and was caught in a death-lock, he came to his senses.

"No!" he screamed in his thoughts. His hand straightened and he shouted "Jierda!" releasing a burst of magic that freed Eliana. He grabbed his knife and jumped in between the two warring parties. Bid'Daum scampered back into the tree, his mouth bloody.

"Who the _devil_ are you?" Eliana asked vehemently from behind Eragon.

"Seeing as this is my territory, you should probably introduce yourself first," a voice responded. Behind him, as usual.

Eragon whirled around, finding nobody. The voice was so familiar, close to heart, but for the love of his dead mother he could _not_ place a name or face with the sound.

"Eragon you idiot!" Eliana screamed, and Eragon whirled around again to find the sorceress in mid-air, about to plunge a knife through him. Twisting his torso, he avoided the lunge and began defending himself from the violent attacks of his assailant. "Okay, okay, this is Eragon and I am Eliana, we call the dragon Bid'Daum now by the Sun in the sky, will you _stop_ this!" The witch disappeared from in front of Eragon's eyes, and he spun in a full circle, looking for her. Nobody. Just Bid'Daum in the tree and Eliana standing next to him, eyes wide.

"Your magic is strong, Eragon." From behind him. Again. He whirled around to nothing. "But will you use it wisely?" Behind him. He spun around to nothing. "It's always a gamble with you mortals." Eragon was getting a mite dizzy from all of that spinning. "I suppose it's a gamble I'm willing to take."

"What the..." Eragon sat down, and held his head in his hands to stop the blur in his eye.

"Eragon," Eliana was soon by his side. "Are you all right?"

"I don't get what that was, or why we're here," Eragon grumbled. "I hate not knowing."

"Eragon. That was an evil female creature who is gambling on you for some reason. Do you have any idea about your magic was she talking about? I know you are quite proficient at magical abilities, but is there something different, special?"

"No. Not that I'm aware of. I think she was talking about Squeaky."

"Bid'Daum."

"Squeaky."

"You named him Bid'Daum!"

"The reptilian reason we're here," Eragon said, looking Eliana in the eye. "Dragons must have stronger magic than we can imagine." Eliana grimaced.

"That's not the sort of thing I want to be hearing about the dragon I'm going to help baby-sit." She glanced over her shoulder and watched Bid'Daum try to climb another tree.

"But I think I know how I can talk to it," Eragon murmured, standing and walking slowly towards Bid'Daum.

"Him!" Eliana countered.

Bid'Daum stopped jumping and watched Eragon approach. Slowly outstretching his hand, Eragon began muttering soothing words laden with magic.

"Hello, little best friend," he cooed. "Please don't eat my hand."

"Eragon," Eliana whispered. "Please don't die."

Bid'Daum's white eyes connected with Eragon's.

Contact.

An electric pulse jerked Eragon's body, and he fell back, gasping for breath. Bid'Daum snorted and went back to jumping, even more urgently than before.

"_Eragon_!"

Jumping onto this feet, still panting, he reached out again, this time with more confidence. Bid'Daum froze and glared at him.

Contact.

A blankness embraced his mind, threatening to crush him, but he pushed through, searching for the fiery refuge that had electrocuted him before. He could vaguely hear Eliana shouting something about killing himself, how most people learned from their mistakes, and something about not baby-sitting a white lizard alone. He gritted his teeth, and opened his thoughts.

He connected with the foreign presence, and forced his eyes open. Bid'Daum was staring at him. Images of trees and an igloo flowed into Eragon's mind. A sense of confusion and anxiety was thrust into his thoughts, mere impressions of the emotions. Even more powerful than these feelings was a raw sense of power, and magic. Suddenly, Eragon saw a crude vision of himself, and realized that his hypothesis had been correct. He conjured up an image of himself and an older Bid'Daum standing together, and tried to send the image across. _Friend,_ he thought, impressing the idea of companionship over the link.

Another thought came across—an appearance of Eliana's face lit by what looked like flames. Attachment. "Mommy."

Eragon pulled his hand off of Bid'Daum's nose, maintaining the connection. Bid'Daum was still glaring at him wisely with his white eyes.

"He's a day old," Eragon thought to himself. "And yet."

A sudden rise of intense pain flooded his cheek and the link was lost; he staggered back to see Eliana watching him intensely, hand clenched. He blinked twice.

"Are you okay?" she asked slowly. He blinked twice more. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. "Hello! Were you abducted by aliens or something! Or do you need another knuckle-sandwich?"

"N-n-no thank-k you," Eragon stuttered, "I..." He touched his cheek gingerly.

"Did that witch enchant you or something? What's wrong with you?" She loosened her fists slowly, watching him cautiously.

"No, no, I'm fine, really," Eragon explained quickly. "I just..."

"Got kidnapped by extraterrestrials?"

"Had an idea."

"Lost too many brain-cells?"

"No! I just—"

"Got hit by lightning and became a mutant?"

"What are you talking about! All I was doing was—"

"Trying to trick me into thinking all of the above?"

Eragon huffed in exasperation, planting his forehead into his palm. Females. Most of the ones he had met before weren't... crazy?

"Yup. You're fine now. So. What exactly were you doing?"

"I was just trying to make contact with Bid'Daum! And it worked too," Eragon exclaimed quickly, seeing an argument in Eliana's eye. "He sees you as Mommy," Eragon smirked.

Her eyes popped and her jaw dropped.

"_Mommy?_" she asked disbelievingly. "Oh. No." She swallowed and looked over at Bid'Daum, who was lying peacefully in the tree. "Noo," she groaned. "Please tell me you're pulling my leg."

"What, you want me to lie to you!"

The enchanted forest was the perfect place for Bid'Daum. Crazy enough to challenge him, peaceful and impossible-to-find enough to keep Eragon and Eliana comfortable. Eliana often wondered at the weather—they had, after all, gone from a horrid Winter to beautiful Spring, but upon discussing the sorceress a dozen times they concluded that the Weather was just a part of the enchantment. And that didn't make Eliana feel any better about the place, only more suspicious.

The small igloo-turned-fairy leaf house became "home" and the trees surrounding it became "home" but the woods far away became "hunting grounds" and "foraging sites" to the trio. Time passed by without any form or definition, yesterday seemed as close as four weeks ago, and they could hardly tell one day from the next.

The most reliable source of passing time was not the Sun, nor the stars, for in the forest both of those hardly ever changed, and when they did change it was a subtle, "oh look isn't that brighter than usual?" change. Bid'Daum was like a clock, because he did not stay a tiny dragon for long. Without any of them even noticing, he grew taller, more muscular, larger. When he had first hatched, his neck stretched up to Eragon's kneecaps. But as their stay in Fairy-land prolonged and continued, soon the dragon reached Eragon's elbows, his chin, until finally he was taller than even Eragon. Soon, it was not by the position of his head when he stretched that they measured, it was their position against his shoulder.

When Bid'Daum could glare down at Eragon they designed a crude saddle out of the materials at hand—animal skins, vines. There was a hollow at the base of his neck and shoulders that was a wonderful place to just sit in, comfortable for both dragon and elf. Mounting the saddle there, it was slightly more comfortable, but now when Bid'Daum had had enough and tried to fly away they did not fall off. He carried them, and they flew many miles together, learning ever more about one another.

Even Eliana eventually learned how to communicate with Bid'Daum—the delicate dance of emotions and images was an imprecise form of a language neither dragon nor elf knew fully, but both strove to understand. Eragon was better able to project precise emotions, but Eliana understood the flashes of sensory detail far better than he. It was evident from the start that the dragon was far more intelligent and magical than they had previously assumed—and strange things often happened.

Strangely beautiful things, really. Eragon and Eliana had been trying to figure out not when to leave, but _how_ to leave. They had been, quite honestly, thrust into this fairy-land, and they weren't sure if there was some way for them to trigger a way _back_. Assuming of course they ever wanted to go back, a sentiment which confused them both. It was wonderful, but it wasn't home. Eliana especially never felt safe there, and Eragon knew that destiny lay somewhere far away from the woods of no snow. But there had really never been a reason to leave, until the day Eliana started hearing the voices.

She was out foraging for supper with Bid'Daum, grabbing mushrooms and berries to make a great vegetarian soup. Her mind wasn't entirely preoccupied with much anything—just berries, but all the same, he stopped still when a thought that wasn't her own reverberated through the chasms of her mind.

_Eliana._ It was a single word, hardly a thought, but Eliana did not think of herself in the third person. _Eliana go back._ Nope. That voice definitely did not belong to her. Or Eragon—this voice was harsh, almost childish, pronouncing the vowels and consonants the way children do. It was ethereal, and it scared Eliana half to death.

Picking up her things, she got onto Bid'Daum's back and sent the impression of "hurry back".

_I couldn't agree more_, the voice said.

_Hurry,_ Eliana urged Bid'Daum.

_What does it look like I'm doing?_ The voice retorted.

It was only then that Eliana realized what was happening.

_Wait, since when can you talk?_

_Since I learned how._

Eliana was extremely confused, but accepted it and pushed her curiosity to the bottom of her skull. If Bid'Daum could speak with her, then he could speak with other elves. And dragons. And so, Eliana thought, a partnership between the two of us must be Eragon's way of saving both races.

_I suppose we have been gone long enough,_ she mused.

_Yes. I don't even know what a dragon looks like—no thanks to you,_ Bid'Daum snorted playfully.

_You have a sense of humor,_ Eliana muttered, surprised.

_You understand humor!_ Bid'Daum responded sarcastically. _I would never have thought elves were so intelligent. My instinct says everything but._

_I guess that's why our races are trying to kill one another,_ Eliana said, _because when you had just hatched I thought the same thing._

_ So you want to tell the world what you know?_

_ And what you know._

_ So we stop fighting?_

_ So we live together in mutual friendship._

_ Sounds like a plan. Is Eragon in?_

_ It's Eragon's plan._

_ He's a smart one, that Eragon. Don't you think?_

_ Brilliant, but a little on the crazier side,_ Eliana responded.

_Crazy. Just the way you like it._ _I mean, just the way you like him._

Eliana shook her head, amazed at Bid'Daum.

_I do have permission to call you "Mom", right?_

Eragon watched curiously as Bid'Daum landed in the clearing, and ran out to meet them as Eliana hopped off with an empty-ish basket.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

_Yes._ A voice, not Eliana's, resonated through his head.

"We need to go back." Eliana tossed the basket at him. "It's time, Eragon. Even Squeaky here knows that."

Eragon caught the basket and opened it absent-mindedly.

_She's right you know._

_Yeah I—_ Eragon jerked his head up and looked at Bid'Daum with surprise._ You're talking!_

"Squeaky can talk?" he asked Eliana in surprise.

_Hello! Could you please not talk about me as though I weren't here?_

"Squeaky has a sense of humor!" he asked again.

_I believe my name is Bid'Daum Mr. "What-Would-Happen-If-I-Raised-A-Dragon?" Well I'll tell you what's happening. You're telling me what's happening and taking me to the real world._

_ You... know what you want._ Eragon admitted with surprise.

_Surprised?_

"Listen, Eragon, I know you still want to wait in fairy-land, but the world outside is probably still moving forward. Things are changing. Battles are being fought. Elves and dragons are dying. If you have a rest-of-the-plan, now would be the time to divulge it." Eliana folded her arms over her chest.

Eragon closed the basket and set it down.

"We fly to the area of conflict, do our best to stop it, and hope for the best?" Eragon suggested.

"I take it you haven't thought that far ahead." Eliana sighed and a small smile crept onto her face. "I have taken the liberty of thinking ahead, and will let you figure everything out for yourself while I investigate what's happening in the real world. Deal?"

_She's quick._

"I'll be back as soon as possible... probably." Eliana clicked her fingers and with a wave ran off.

"Wait, where do you think you're going!" Eragon dropped the basket and started running after her.

Bid'Daum leaped in his path.

_Not so fast—_

_ Where is she going!_

_ Let her be. You're going to need her help sooner and more often than you realize._ Bid'Daum nuzzled Eragon affectionately. _You crazy little fellow._


	22. Chapter 22

_ "ERAGON!"_

It had been twenty days since Eliana had left, and quite a bit had changed in the enchanted forest. Wild carnivores had started showing up, giving Bid'Daum competition and new foods to try. Eragon's own vegetarian diet became more of a fast or starvation; edible plants were hard to find. He had eaten his second meal of meat two days ago, on the eighteenth day since Eliana had gone.

To top off the lack of food, or change in diet, Eragon had been having dreams. And they weren't just your average "I can fly" dreams, they were "This is so real I must be dead" dreams. The dreams all started out the same, with him flying on Bid'Daum, the mysterious maiden riding behind him, her arm tucked securely around his waist. They were flying over a smoking battlefield, orange, bloody, covered with the bodies of dead elves, dead dragons, dying elves, dying dragons gasping for air. But the air wasn't fresh oxygen—the smell of burning corpses was already permeating the entire area, and as Eragon flew it was all he could see, all he could smell, the heat billowing into his face, the hiss of the fires smoking into his ears.

"It's too late," the maiden whispered into his ear. "You've come too late." He always wanted to turn and face her, to ask how this had happened, but he never could.

The carnage around him was too great.

The stench was too strong.

The unsung lament was too loud.

And the courage in his heart had died.

He would weep, recognizing familiar faces, and Bid'Daum would moan underneath him. They flew towards a giant rock, and would land upon it, each in their own loss. This was where the dream always took one of two directions.

The first time the maiden had taken him aside and comforted him, telling him all was not lost. He never saw her face, only black gloves wiping his tears away.

"There is still hope while both races still live," she would say. "Take heart, and follow your destiny. This is only a setback, Eragon." And as his eyes cleared he could see a golden lily with little red rubies instead of a stem. Hope would fill him, and though he awoke with a desolate heart, he could feel the smallest strand of hope wrap around him infinitely.

But other times as he fell off of Bid'Daum the maiden didn't fall with him. He would stumble blindly along the red rock, until he came upon a fallen dragon, surrounded by the shells and broken bodies of unhatched younglings. And in the middle of the broken shells, he would find Eliana's shredded figure, caked with blood and long cold.

"Their destruction is your fault," the maiden would say. Eragon would turn to her, but her face was always covered in a black, rounded helmet. "You have failed destiny."

Those nights were always the worst, because not only were his dreams excruciating, but when he awoke in the mornings... Let's just say the daylight didn't ever make anything any better.

"Eragon, where the devil are you, you sneaky little twerp!" There was only one person who would use such derogatory terms to call attention to herself, and that was Eliana. He had been sitting in a tree, talking to Bid'Daum while Bid'Daum hunted, but he severed the connection to take a closer look.

"Up here," he responded, jumping out of the tree and landing lightly on the ground.

"Eragon!" Eliana whipped around to face him and burst out grinning. "Technically you're down here."

"Nice to see you too," Eragon smiled. "What have you been up to?"

"There's no time, we—or you I suppose—have to leave as _soon_ as possible. There's a huge battle about to begin!" Eliana's grin transformed into a grimace of worry. "This is big Eragon. I mean thousands are going to die. _Thousands._"

Eragon had already called Bid'Daum, who was already rushing to meet them. His smile faded too, and he wondered if that would explain his dreams, or if he would meet the maiden by the river.

"Thanks, no pressure, right?" Eragon rolled his eyes and sighed. He took a better look at Eliana and was surprised. Her hair was unkempt, he clothes were caked in mud and leaves, her face looked ragged and tired, but her posture was still proud as ever. "What happened to you?"

"If you want something done you have to do it yourself, no matter the cost," Eliana chuckled, a small smile reappearing. "I suppose I had better be giving you directions."

_Oh no. You're coming along._ It was Bid'Daum, and with a bugle of delight he crash-landed some twenty feet away. _You're back!_

_ Uh, no I'm not coming along. Speed is of the essence. _And without another word she began showing both dragon and boy the quickest route.

_But if we get lost,_ Bid'Daum whimpered trying to convince Eliana to come with. _We'll be too late._

_You might be too late even if you fly in the straightest line possible at speeds no elf can ever run._ Eliana cut back professionally, although Eragon sensed she wanted to join them. _No. I'll be looking for an HQ, someplace where we can learn everything we need to know without being noticed by the Queen. Here_, she took off her satchel and tossed it to Eragon. _You're going to need it._

"What's inside?" he asked, slinging it over his own shoulder.

_Pants,_ Bid'Daum snorted. _Thick, leather pants you can wear while riding me, since apparently your skin isn't that wonderfully thick, like mine._

_You should be going, I wish you the best of luck and—_ Eliana paused, observing the scene as though for the first time. _Good luck. May your winds be favorable._

Bid'Daum nodded, and roared. _C'mon, Eragon. Let's go!_ _Get those pants on and let's be on with it!_

_ Pants! Here! Bid'Daum, I can't change here..._ Eragon turned red, redder than a rose.

Eliana laughed, and saluted the dragon and his boy. _I'll be on my way then,_ she smirked. She turned and bounded out of the forest.

_Now will you put those pants on?_ Bid'Daum snorted.

_I'm working on it!_

Soon enough the pants were on the rider of a beast so purely white that at a great distance he looked like a super-fast cloud. Or a flurry of snow. Or a snow-man on a motorcycle. You choose.

Bid'Daum was flying as fast as young dragon can fly in stealth-mode, and Eragon was doing his best to hold on to his sword and stay seated on the reptile.

_We really need to make a saddle for you_, he grumbled to Bid'Daum.

_I will _never_ wear a saddle._ Bid'Daum snorted, smoke puffing from his nostrils. _I would be a disgrace to all of dragon-kind!_

_I think you're exaggerating,_ Eragon wrapped his arms around the dragon's neck as he dove below the clouds to see where they were. Eliana's directions were very helpful—if only Bid'Daum could see where he was going.

_We should be coming upon the battlefield any moment now,_ Bid'Daum grunted, pulling back through the clouds. Eragon was already soaked from their first dive, but the second left him dripping with moisture.

_Um, what exactly are we going to do when we reach the battlefield?_ Eragon asked, suddenly realizing a fatal flaw in his plan.

_You mean you don't have any idea what we're supposed to do besides show up?_ Bid'Daum asked incredulously. _You really are making this up as you go, aren't you?_

Eragon swallowed, thinking fast.

_Yeah_.

_Joyful._ Bid'Daum sniffed the air, and then without warning dove through the clouds.

"HOLY—" Eragon's scream was cut off by sheer velocity. The satchel was flung open, and Eragon's other pair of pants fluttered far behind them, slowly falling at its own pace.

_Great_, he muttered, his thinking doubly cloudy. _So we arrive and fly along the frontline—_

_ And get shot at and die,_ Bid'Daum snorted.

_How would you know anything about battle?_ Eragon snapped, frustrated more by the fact that Bid'Daum was right than by the fact that a reptile had foiled his plan.

_Magic_, Bid'Daum snorted sarcastially.

_Wonderful. Then how about we fly visibly out of range?_

_Meaning?_ Bid'Daum rolled his inner eyes.

_We fly so that everyone can see that we are weird, but out of firing range._

Bid'Daum snapped out of the dive, just above the hilly ground.

_That means we'll need to be higher, smart one_, Eragon suggested grumpily.

_I've got my own ideas. _Bid'Daum replied. _And my own suspicions that Mommy was too late in the telling._

_"Mommy," Bid'Daum!_

_Ahem, Eliana._

Despite the chaos that Bid'Daum was hinting at, Eragon let loose a huge laugh. _Mommy? Eliana? Oh she will be thrilled to know._

_Don't tell her!_ Bid'Daum growled, and Eragon could feel the vibrations through his leather seat.

_ Yessir._

The hills dropped suddenly, revealing an empty plain. Empty as in nothing on it was alive.


	23. Chapter 23

"Oh my word..." Eragon gasped.

_I thought so. The smell was too old._

Eragon was speechless. Just like in the dream, Bid'Daum flew over the plain without stopping, and they both sat in stunned silence at the carnage.

_So this is what my kin and yours have been up to,_ Bid'Daum said sadly. _It's worse than you let on. _Indeed, they flew on and on, and still every inch of the ground was covered with bodies. Elves were torn into dozens of pieces, dragon limbs lay scattered about the field, blood was everywhere, and so were the flies, scavenging creatures and birds of prey. _We are far too late._

Eragon was silent, saying nothing even when Bid'Daum finally pulled back into the clouds to begin their retreat. Neither of them said anything through the whole flight, which was made at a far slower pace than prior.

They stopped for the night and still had not said a word, the loss and overpowering sense of failure looming over them like a giant with his club drawn. Eragon especially could not pull himself together; it was all too similar to his dream. Where was the maiden then? Did he really have the answers, or had he been delusional, from the very beginning?

_Are you hungry?_ Bid'Daum asked in the end.

And at first Eragon did not respond. But finally he nodded and pulled an apple from his sack. Bid'Daum watched him eat, and once the apple core lay underneath the dirt (courtesy of a brooding Eragon) he laid his head near Eragon's knee.

_So this is what awaits us if we idle for too long._

_ Yes._ Eragon answered after a moment.

_Then we need to hasten back and search for news._

_How? Bid'Daum, we may be the last remnant of our species. I've never seen that many elves in one place in my entire life._ Eragon began shaking; the tears were finally arriving at the corners of his eyes.

_Live and let live, Eragon. You and I are not dead, therefore we must do what we can to preserve what is left. It's our destiny._

_ You believe in destiny? You believe that those elves – those dragons died because that was their destiny?_

_ Eragon,_ Bid'Daum sighed, smoke curling out of his nostrils. _Life isn't just about breathing. It's about living. With others. That's what you're fighting for, boy. Remember that. Weep now, but come the morning, put on your brave face and let's keep living while we breathe._

_ Yes sir,_ Eragon breathed, hugging his knees to his chest and allowing the tears to spill, allowing the sobs to rack his body. Bid'Daum crawled around and let Eragon lean against his warm tummy, and they sat as such until dawn.

_Let's go, little one._ Bid'Daum nudged Eragon with his nose. Grudgingly, Eragon stood and mounted Bid'Daum.

The flight of that morning was quick, and they landed in the clearing where they had left Eliana before noon.

_These tracks are fresh, as of yesterday,_ Bid'Daum mused, sniffing Eliana's footprints.

_She probably went to find more news,_ Eragon muttered.

_And where would she look for that?_

_ No idea. Let's follow the tracks by air._

_ And how do you propose we do that?_

Eragon sighed. He hated not thinking up to speed.

_Magic, _he grumbled half-jokingly.

_All right then, if you can think of a spell that will do that, I will fly us there._

Eragon blinked twice before he realized that magic could indeed serve that purpose. A spell and a launch-into-the-sky later and they were hunters of the sky, the two minds melded into one purpose.

_There._

_I'm on it._

Bid'Daum rolled into a dive, extending his wings at the precise moment so as to not crash into the trees. Eragon vaulted off of Bid'Daum, through the trees, and landed softly in the grass. He immediately caught sight of Eliana.

Eliana herself whirled around at the sound of Eragon's arrival, sword in hand. She stopped short.

"You two are _fast_."

"We were too late."

"You – oh no." Eliana froze and dropped her sword, her glare losing its intensity and fading into a blank expression. "No," she whispered.

"I know," Eragon sighed. "I assume there's no more news?"

Eliana shook her head ever so slightly.

"No, no, I haven't been in contact with elves since I saw you off."

"Do you know where we could find some?"

"Elves?"

"Living ones, preferably." Eragon grimaced.

"Maybe," Eliana whispered again. "There's a chance – but you probably don't want the Queen to find you."

"That insinuates the Queen is still alive."

"Unless fate has dealt unusually cruel cards today," Eliana mumbled. "She should be fine."

Bid'Daum dropped from a tree, and padded over to Eliana. She placed her hand on his nose, and clenched her eyes shut.

"If we go by dragonback we could probably find a camp by sundown," she added eventually.

_Bid'Daum?_ Eragon asked.

_Hop on._

Eliana vaulted into the curve of his neck, and Eragon followed suit, just behind her. Bid'Daum leaped into the air, following Eliana's instructions obediently.

Just as she had promised, before night fell the caps of camouflaged tents could be spotted in the forest below.

_Drop me off here_, Eliana instructed.

_Are you sure?_ Eragon asked.

_Positive. Where will you two be?_

_Somewhere. You know how to contact us,_ Bid'Daum snorted.

_Right. If I hear anything I'll let you know._

_ We'll be on the lookout as well,_ Bid'Daum murmured.

"Be safe," Eragon whispered into Eliana's ear.

"You too," and with that Eliana vaulted into a tree.

_Let's go, big guy._

_ Without getting spotted by unwanted eyes, I presume?_

_ Indeed._

_ I know where we can stop!_

_ Bid'Daum... you've lived how long in an enchanted forest? As far as geography skills go, I'm afraid I still outknow you._

_ I was going to say a lake. But that works too._


	24. Chapter 24

**Nothing like a new book from C.P. and a couple of favorite alerts to put someone back on track... **

Eragon and Bid'Daum only had two close encounters with random elf camps. And only one of those encounters had anything to do with the Queen. All in all, considering what they were doing, they did not meet very many elves. Although they did make regular weekly visits to Eliana, most of the time they flew around looking for dragons or any other signs of battle.

Eragon tried to keep his spirits up by assuming that since they couldn't find _any_ signs of battle, that none was happening. Maybe the elves had figured out that they couldn't win. Maybe the dragons had gone into permanent hiding. He wouldn't allow himself to believe it, but he told himself that maybe his venture had been completed by someone else, and the fighting had stopped entirely. Not that what he was telling himself was logical, likely, or conceivable, but it was better than assuming that the majority of each species had died on one battlefield.

For a while Eliana knew no more than they. The elves in the camp were supposed to have been participants of the great battle Eragon and Bid'Daum had missed, but by a stroke of poor luck they had gotten into a mess with werecats, delaying their arrival to the battle so that they arrived too late to do anything other than mourn.

Eliana had struggled, when she first left Eragon and Bid'Daum, to find an elvish encampment that didn't have an officer that would recognize her in it. Eragon's words from their first few nights of major criminal activity came back to remind her they were technically outlaws, and needed to act as such. Not suspiciously, God no, she needed information, but she needed to act so no one asked _her_ questions, she wanted to be the one asking _them_. She had stopped by a few towns at the beginning of her quest, but all she had found out was that nobody knew anything in the towns except that the only reliable sources of information were to be found on the fighting fronts and that her father was fighting again. The fighting fronts were commonly referred to as "Campaign Camps," and no one really had any hope that the campaign was going well.

It was quite accidentally that she ran into a troop of rookies on their way to join a major battle that was entitled the "Do or Die" with a high possibility of "Die" being the unfortunate conclusion. Eliana had camped with them only long enough to discover the locations of the other Campaign Camps, who was leading them, and what their objectives were. And that was when she had gone running off to find Eragon and Bid'Daum, hopefully before it was too late.

But it _had_ been too late, and it was a lucky guess that this encampment, let alone the Queen's troops had seemingly missed the "Do or Die" mission. Eliana had been welcomed warmly, seen by the soldiers as a survivor of the battle. She had never bothered to disrupt this rumor as dangerous as it could be should they discover otherwise, primarily because she needed information. Anything – but they knew as little as she, and as much as Eragon.

Which was absolutely nothing other than the Queen _was_ alive. Somewhere.

Eragon at least knew where her camp _had_ been before he and Bid'Daum had accidentally swooped in on them. Apparently she also had all of the magicians with her, because it was an invisible camp. According to the bewildered description Eragon and Bid'Daum had given her, anyways.

She smiled thinking about it. Eragon and Bid'Daum, no matter how much "daddying" Eragon had done, were more like brothers than friends or anything else. And she, much to her dismay, found herself mothering the two far more than she had ever anticipated or desired. It was a dull throb – at least she _knew_ of their existence, a better position than any in the encampment or even the Queen herself – but a painful one. Because truth be told, no matter how much she tried to stop it and control it before it could take a hold, she wanted nothing else but to quit. Go into hiding. Save the elves through the fact that nobody knew of Eragon and Bid'Daums existence. Run her hands through that sandy-blonde hair and -

She missed Eragon more than she would _ever_ admit. But that was a trivial fact she logically forced into submissive hiding somewhere deep on the inside.

Such was the contemplative state Vido, the camp's scout, found her in.

"Eliana-elda!" he called, bending over and panting. "Come quick! I have important news from the Queen!"

Eliana's attention was quickly subdued, and she hopped out of her tree to join the scout.

"How goes the battle?" she asked Vido quietly.

"I'll tell you and Commander Knaeol in the Commanders quarters," Vido gasped. He was limping too, though Eliana could see no wound. She watched him carefully as he hobbled vigorously through the trees.

"Slow down, soldier," she grunted, putting a hand on his shoulder. Vido stopped, shocked. "You're going to hurt yourself. Unless time is of the essence, which, if you won't tell me the business that is clearly not the case, you don't need to push yourself this hard." She almost surprised herself – not a year ago she too had been an over-eager rookie.

_Mothering those two vagabonds_, she told herself decidedly. _That's why I've become so..._

"Very well," Vido said with a grin. "I suppose it would be best if I don't die of exhaustion _before_ telling you are Commander Knaeol."

"Dying is not very high on our list of priorities," Eliana muttered sternly. "And neither is suspecting our own deaths, no matter how imminent they may be."

Vido chuckled. "I suppose that's why you made it out, eh?"

"Out of wh—oh. That." Eliana bit her tongue before responding. "I suppose."

Vido was looking much better, even in the two minutes it had taken him to slow down. His breathing was even now, and his limp was much less pronounced. Eliana glanced at the Sun's position in the sky. _Eragon will be waiting before too long. _Their meeting point was a location close to the encampment – too close for Eliana's liking, but Eragon had insisted, "in case something happens while you're gone." An unlikely possibility that had to be considered.

By the time they reached Knaeol's tent even Vido's limp was almost unnoticeable, though Eliana made a mental note to have him get it checked after he had given the news.

_Finally_, she thought, _there can be a discussion with some actual fact in it instead of pure speculation_. The lack of knowledge had been a great hamper to the few moments she had with Eragon and Bid'Daum, due to the fact that they were over-eager to find _something_. Just like rookies. _I suppose they are rookies at what they're doing._ Although Eragon had been a scout at one point in time – surely he knew _something_ about finding out things –

"Vido! Good to see you back!" Knaeol's grumpy expression melted into a grin at the sight of his finest scout, and he sat back from a plethora of maps on his desk. "What's the story?"

"Good news, Commander. We're called into battle!" Vido and Knaeol's eyes flashed with excitement. They'd made it out of the werecat business none-the-wiser as far as what _battle_ actually looked like. Eliana frowned at their elatedness.

"Where and when, Vido?" she asked.

"We're to meet the Queen at the nearest bend in the river by tomorrow. She's quite close by now, you know." Eliana caught her breath.

"Exactly _how_ quite close?" she asked.

"She's maybe an hour north of us. I told her all about you, Eliana. She was _very_ interested in your story, come to mention it." Vido cocked his head in deliberation. "I didn't notice it at the time, but she seemed to come alive when I mentioned you, actually..."

_Of course she did,_ Eliana grimaced inwardly.

"She even asked me to greet you for her," Vido said, eyebrows popping as the memory returned to him. "Were you a commander at one time, Eliana?"

"A very _long_ time ago," Eliana said, a memory of _Hero, first class_ popping into her mind. A very large part of her hoped she wouldn't have to go with Eragon to explain his very bizarre plan to the Queen. Another very large part of her hoped she wouldn't come upon any of her regiment. And a _very_ small part of her hoped with all she had that her father had somehow survived.

"Aha." Vido's eyebrows showed surprise, but Knaeol only smirked. "I suspected as much. Your natural leadership qualities couldn't have gotten past the drafters. And your spunk and – "

That was when the tent caved in.

Shrieks and shouts sounded from every direction, but for all of the commotion she could hear, Eliana could only see the brownish fabric of the tent. A crushing weight slammed itself upon her ribcage, and a thunderous roar filled her ears along with the snapping sound of her ribs.

_Dragons! _she thought, struggling to breathe. _Eragon!_

_ She's never been this late before._ Eragon grunted, pacing back and forth between the tree Bid'Daum was in and the tree he usually sat in.

_Relax. Maybe she's found something out. Maybe she got distracted._ Bid'Daum. Always acting with a logical ease that Eragon had somehow forgotten a long time ago.

_Yeah, yeah, maybe you're right._ Eragon stopped and clambered back into his tree. He hadn't reached the fourth branch before he leaped back into his pacing. _But what if you're wrong?_

_Seriously, I've never seen you so agitated,_ Bid'Daum chuckled, a half-cough-half-roar echoing through the trees. _I'm sure she's fine._

_Should we go make sure? I could go._ _Just to make sure._

_She is late_, Bid'Daum conceded. _But that happens to everyone._

_But this is _late, Eragon glared at Bid'Daum and looked towards the camp. _I'd just walk in the trees and see if I couldn't at least _sense_ her. You know? Make sure she's there and not finding something out somewhere else. You know?_

_ That took you a while,_ Bid'Daum clucked. _You _should_ be able to sense her from here, you know?_

Eragon stopped mid-pace and exclaimed, "Brilliant!" so loudly that all of the birds in the area took flight.

_Oops._

_Smooth moves, hotshot, _Bid'Daum covered his face with a wing. _I can't believe I stick with you._

The echoes of a roar rumbled through the clearing with less clarity than Bid'Daum's chuckle, and this time both Eragon and Bid'Daum shot a glance at the camp.

_Hold on, _he told Bid'Daum, plunging himself outwards, searching for Eliana's telltale signature -

_Eragon!_

_ Eliana! We're on our way, what's going on?_ Eragon nodded to Bid'Daum, who leaped down. With a clean vault into his seat, Eragon grabbed a spike tightly as Bid'Daum took off, flying low.

_We're under attack, I guess._ Eragon noted with much concern a sharp pain Eliana was trying to block out from their contact. _I'm stuck in the Commander's tent. I think – nevermindjusthurry!_

Bid'Daum let out a huge, tree-shaking roar and barreled into a black dragon that was trampling tents.

_Get off and stop the elves from attacking,_ Bid'Daum growled to Eragon before cutting off all contact.

_Right. Just like we'd planned..._ Eragon leaped off and rolled, swallowing as he took in the scene in front of him. He had no idea which tent was the commander's – but his duty, as painful as it was, was to stop the elves from fighting. Bid'Daum could hopefully do the same for the dragons -

"Hey, _don't!_" Eragon bellowed at a group of archers. "Dodge, don't attack!"

"Are you _mad!_" the archers obeyed, but were clearly not planning on doing so for long.

"Cut it _out_!" Eragon shouted. "If you don't attack them, they won't attack _you_!" He ran over to them and helped them dodge a burst of flame. Bid'Daum dove from the sky and overpowered the green dragon, sending it fluttering over towards where the black dragon and several other lizards were sitting, a very safe distance from the elves. "STOP!" he screamed at the other elves that had rallied behind him. "Wait. Calm down."

Eragon had not, not even in his wildest dreams, expected that a bunch of elves _under attack_ would even hear him. But now, he had a regiment's worth of elves quietly waiting behind him, hands only lightly gripping their weapons.

_Bid'Daum?_ He asked.

_Start explaining your propaganda. I'm just about to begin._ Bid'Daum paused. _And I honestly didn't expect them to listen, but they are for now, so let's go._

Eragon whirled on his heel and took a long look at the soldiers in front of him. _I have to make it quick; who knows how many are trapped in the tents..._

"Look. We all know the war's not going well. If it continues like this, neither we nor the dragons will survive." Eragon shushed an exclamation with a motion of his hand. "I know we don't really care about them so much, but they're in the same situation as us. The only way for _us_ to survive is if they do. We _have_ to come to terms _now_, before it's too late."

_The dragons have agreed to a temporary stop in the fighting here. They don't believe that the elves won't fire,_ Bid'Daum informed Eragon.

"You probably don't think dragons would _ever_ spare us if they had the chance." Eragon paused. "You're wrong. If you don't believe me, just watch."

_Ready?_ Eragon asked Bid'Daum. His white eyes sparkled dangerously.

_Been ready ever since I hatched, you silly little elf._


	25. Chapter 25

**THREE MORE CHAPTERS! Yes, and this wonderful adventure will end. Maybe I can finish on September 8th... two months before Paolini finishes... dun dun dun! Anyways. Reviews make happy authors. So does getting to click "completed" under this story :D**

Eragon took a deep breath and took a step towards the seated dragons. Bid'Daum leaped half the distance between them, carefully avoiding the crashed tents. Eragon could sense the disbelief and fear mounting in the elves, but he walked slowly and carefully towards Bid'Daum. He didn't want to frighten the dragons.

But in the back of his mind he wanted to sprint across hop on Bid'Daum and scream "See!" to each party, and then find Eliana. He dropped his sword ten steps away, and forced himself to maintain his pace.

Bid'Daum did not lower his muzzle until Eragon had put out his hand, and then he made a great show of giving Eragon the one-over before he joined his nose to Eragon's hand.

A great gasp went up on the elvish side, and Eragon heard the rustling of the dragon's surprise. Bid'Daum's great white eyes were smiling, but just barely.

_I think I know where Eliana is. _He made contact swiftly, jumping in and out of Eragon's consciousness so quickly Eragon almost doubted he had done it. Eragon nodded, and turned back to the elves.

"We _can_ live in peace, but we both have to _choose_ it. They won't choose it unless we choose it. Now put down your weapons and come over here so we can set up an armistice." Eragon saw several of the soldiers cast glances at the crashed tents. "We can't help the wounded until we make peace." _Hurry up and just do it,_ he thought grumpily.

_Eragon,_ Bid'Daum interjected. Eragon turned and found himself face to face with the black dragon. He put out his hand.

The dragon lowered his muzzle slowly until there was contact. Eragon sighed with relief inwardly, and allowed a small, grateful smile outwardly.

He turned again and saw that several elves had dropped their bows, swords and axes and were slowly approaching. Eragon was elated, but wished they would hurry up. In pairs and individually, elves came and offered their hands first to Bid'Daum, then to the black dragon. Eventually, the rest of the dragons came too and offered the strange peace agreement. When the final elf had finished offering his hand to each of the dragons the relief on both sides was tangible.

_Help the injured. And tell the elves that the dragons offer their apology,_ Bid'Daum instructed. Eragon relayed the apologies, and a silent cheer went up inside of him. Reconciliation _could _happen! Both sides _were_ willing to work together!

_Oh. And Eliana is over there_, Bid'Daum nudged Eragon towards a large, brown tent on the edge of camp. _Hurry, and remember your healing spells._

The cautionary advice on magic put Eragon on edge and he dashed to the tent, skirting a couple other structures before he swiftly began pulling up the fabric. He could see a couple of blood-stains towards the center, and his heart sank considerably. A pair of elves began pulling up the fabric from the other sides of the tent as well, and working quickly they reached the middle within the minute.

Eragon tossed the fabric just beyond the third figure and dropped to his knees next to the bloodied body of Eliana.

"Hey," he whispered, hands hovering cautiously over her skin. From what he could see, her ribcage had collapsed in upon itself, probably piercing the lungs. Her clothes were dripping with blood, and he couldn't tell if she was breathing. "Anybody in there?"

"Eragon?" It was a hardly formed whisper, barely audible, but it was enough for Eragon.

_Bid'Daum! Make sure I don't faint from lack of energy._ Eragon snapped, barely taking a breath before he growled a violent "Waise heill!"

The other elves looked up at him in alarm, but he paid them no heed. One of them even jumped up and tried to pry him away, but the glow from his hand did not flicker, and he could feel Eliana's body coming back together to form a whole.

Eventually though the glow faded and he clutched his stomach.

_Bid'Daum, did I leave an apple in a bag somewhere? _Eragon moaned. _I'm sooooooo hungry!_

"Eragon, you are an idiot." Eragon looked down in surprise at Eliana, who was looking up tiredly at him. "But I am very grateful for your idiocy and part of me hopes you never outgrow it."

"Do _you_ have an apple?" he asked, barely holding in a grin at his success. _Take that Bid'Daum! All those months of magic just _paid off_!_

_ Don't get cocky, silly elf. I recall you _eating_ the apple you desire right now_.

Eliana smiled. "No apples, hero. But I found out that this regiment is supposed to meet the Queen and her officers at the nearest bend in the river by tomorrow."

"No apples, no regiment. I'm hungry!" This time Eragon could not help but grin. "Thanks for letting me know, though. Here, let's get you to the medical – oh right, they have to set that up again."

Bid'Daum had padded over to Eragon, causing the two elves to work extra quickly to remove the other two crushed-victims and marvel at Eragon's determination. And magical skills.

_They be jealous_, Bid'Daum snorted, a short puff of fire appearing.

"Bid'Daum!" Eragon exclaimed. "Fire!"

_I was wondering if you'd ever notice, _Bid'Daum snorted proudly, a larger flame emerging.

"Hey, hey, watch it, you'll set the forest on fire!" Eragon gently swatted at Bid'Daum.

_Hey, hey, what's up with actually talking to me?"_ Bid'Daum asked, glaring at Eragon while pretending to be offended.

"You mean, out loud like this?" Eragon asked. Apparently when he was hungry, like, _really _hungry, he was in a very sarcastically humorous mood.

_I think he needs an apple,_ Eliana advised with a grin.

_I think you must be right. Hang on while I go find an apple. I'm sure there must be one around her somewhere..._ Bid'Daum put his nose to the ground and started around the campsite.

"So it works."

"Huh?" Eragon swiveled his attention back to Eliana. "Pardon me, I'm afraid I didn't hear."

"Bid'Daum. Peace. It works," Eliana gestured feebly.

"Apparently, yeah."

"I hope you know what I'm going to tell you next, before Bid'Daum actually _finds_ an apple."

"I'm going to guess," Eragon put his hands to his forehead. "You're going to tell me I'm a madman and I should go back to trying to grow a beard?"

"No. Try again."

"Really?" Eragon asked, grateful that she was already looking so much better. "Then you're going to tell me... that... I would look good with a beard?"

_Do you _want_ a beard or something?_ Bid'Daum asked, shaking his head in an effort to dislodge an apple from his giant tooth.

"I suppose you would look pretty good with a beard." Eliana was squinting at Eragon. "But why ruin what's already great with something 'pretty good'?"

Eragon snatched the apple from Bid'Daum's tooth and without thinking too hard about the hygiene of his action, he chomped a big bite.

_Now that we know what Eliana's opinion is on the subject, we can forget about it, right? _Bid'Daum watched Eragon voraciously consume his apple. _And now that the medical tent is up, I recommend we put Eliana in it and go see about this battle the Queen is intending to begin._

_ And leave her!_ Eragon asked, hesitating before he cast a sideways glance at Eliana.

_Leave me, bird brain. You're the one with the dragon. Go do your magic in the Queen's face, and tell her "hi" for me._

_ The dragon is only slightly offended for the lack of luster put in its description,_ Bid'Daum chuckled.

_Okay. But only if I get another apple,_ Eragon sighed, casting his best evil eye upon Bid'Daum. If dragons could roll their eyes, Bid'Daum would have done so. Instead, he blinked twice and let out a puff of fire in front of Eragon's face, and wandered off to find another apple for his "silly little" elf.

"I am not so certain that ditching you here is the best course of action," Eragon admitted, using the energy from the apple to lift Eliana in his arms. "But it's not like I'm going to change the mind of a dragon, is it?"

"Hardly. And you don't have time to waste, anyways." Eliana's eyes were closed now, Eragon assumed it was to conserve energy.

_Or to go to sleep and produce energy,_ he supposed.

"I guess that someone has to respond to the Queen's demands," he replied ruefully.

"I can't imagine a better candidate," Eliana whispered, floating into dreamland.

"I'm glad to have your approval," Eragon smirked. That apple did wonders for _his _energy levels. _I wonder if it was enchanted..._

He gently put Eliana in the nearest empty bed, and slowly walked out with several backward glances to find Bid'Daum with another apple.

_Apple. You eat it, we leave. Got it?_

_Apple!_ Eragon felt like a little kid again, getting his favorite meal for his birthday. He ate it in three bites and grinned. _I eat it. We leave._ He frowned. _Did the dragons mention anything about a battle?_

_ I was going to tell you that on the way. Go get your sword. Hop on. Then I'll tell you. _Eragon meandered off, uncertain where he had left his sword and with no specific desire to be off quickly. _Hurry up!_

_ Fine,_ Eragon dashed, snatched up his sword and sprinted back to Bid'Daum. He hopped on with one backward glance at the medical tent, and Bid'Daum leaped high into the air.

_The black dragon, you can call him Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey_, _will come with us to the elf camp. He thinks his witness might help convince the elves to hold their fire. And he's willing to help me account to the main army what we've done here._

_ And the rest of the dragons here?_ Eragon asked, noting that Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey had joined them in the sky.

_Will stay here observing if the elves keep their agreement,_ Bid'Daum answered, flying low over the trees. _We're going to drop you off so you can explain this matter to the Queen - _

_ By myself! _Eragon's stomach tightened. He'd at least hoped Eliana would be with him at his moment, the moment he revealed his maniacal plan to the Queen. Assuming of course she let him get within range to speak to her.

_And then at the climax we will show up in a nonviolent manner and prove that your whimsical idea has merit._

_ Okay,_ Eragon said in a small voice. _I guess that'll work._

_ Oh come on, don't act like it's your death sentence! I'll be within rescuing distance, and so will Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey. Besides, I can give you advice on things to say, if you need._ Bid'Daum snorted and dropped to the forest floor. _Go quickly. The dragons were planning on ambushing this camp by morning. If they come while you're explaining, we'll find a way to stall them until you can get a decent word in._

_ Right._ Eragon swallowed, and slid off of Bid'Daum. He turned and watched Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey land, but it was only then that he started walking towards the camp. His stomach constricted again, though this time is was more out of hunger than out of fear. _I hope that they'll feed me once I'm done convincing them – if I can convince them – that we aren't in a position to keep on fighting the dragons. _Eragon sighed and went over persuasive strategies in his mind, but he had barely enough time to recall the first principle before he found himself surrounded by elves.

And by "surrounded," I mean they were pointing their swords at his face.

"Who are you and what's your business?" a voice called out.

"M'name is Eragon and I'm here with a message for the Queen from," Eragon faltered. What regiment had Eliana been camping with for the past few weeks? "Erm, from Eliana."

_I don't think she'd be too pleased to know that you said that,_ Bid'Daum piped in, amusedly observing Eragon through his mind.

_Please just shut up, it's hard enough to think without your input,_ Eragon growled.

_Fine, be that way,_ Bid'Daum closed off his mind and Eragon, for the first time in a long time, felt truly alone.

"Oh." A ripple of interest spread through the surrounding elves, and Eragon had no time to marvel because their swords were sheathed and an elf beckoned at him and said, "Follow me."

So Eragon followed him, and found himself walking through the invisible campsite, except now he could tell why it was invisible.

The elves had molded the trees into dwelling spaces. When one merely cast a glance this way or that, one merely saw a bunch of trees. But when scrutinized, one could clearly tell the tree had stairs curving up the trunk and that the wide branches supported several leafy walls. And his guide led him up one such tree, through such a wall and with that Eragon found himself face to face with none other than the Queen.

"Your majesty," Eragon bowed, his voice gone dry and his stomach was growling hungrily.

What happened next was not in any way shape or form what Eragon had expected.

The guide elf went back down the stairs, the Queen exclaimed his name and practically squashed him in a giant bear hug. Then she stepped back and began asking him a zillion questions per minute in a _concerned_ tone. His thoughts were still catching up to speed when she asked,

"What's this I hear about Eliana being in Knaeol's camp! Did you two participate in the Do or Die campaign and survive? Tell me everything, Eragon."

"Everything?" Eragon asked slowly. "Can I tell you this over dinner, since you apparently have no intentions of killing me? I'm starving."

"Please, take a seat," the Queen gestured to a stool by her desk. "I'll organize something to eat, and then I _command_ you to tell me everything that's gone on since you disappeared."

"Ah, but make it quick please, your majesty," Eragon said, remembering Bid'Daum's warning of a dragon attack. "I have information that there might be an ambush sometime tonight."

The Queen had just finished giving orders for a feast. She turned and asked Eragon to please repeat what he had just said. Eragon hesitated, and changed his wording.

"The events that have occurred since I left your camp have provided a new aspect to the war," he began carefully, persuasive strategies clouding his mind once more. "An aspect that would suggest that an attack tonight could end the war with the good of both sides overcoming all these years of misunderstanding." He finished quickly, and launched into a detailed description of how he had left the camp, hatched Bid'Daum (alluding to Eliana only briefly, since he didn't want her in any trouble) and how Bid'Daum had grown up. Supper came and he ate viciously, slipping into greater description the events of that afternoon and adding a quick explanation of how he had come to be so hungry.

"If a small band of dragons agreed to an armistice, mightn't the greater population also, especially in the face of extinction on both sides?" Eragon used all of his persuasive tactics now – looking into the eyes, speaking with clarity and conviction, and of course, using the simplest body language to subconsciously impose his correctness upon the Queen.

"It's possible, but I have a hard time believing you actually touched a wild dragon, let alone twelve. Or that they didn't eat the elves that you left behind."

"I brought a witness," Eragon said quietly. "He's waiting about ten minutes out of camp to speak with you. But, if your elves promise not to shoot, he'd be willing to come testify himself."

"Eragon, why would my elves need to promise a cease-fire?" The Queen glared disbelievingly at Eragon, and he could see she knew what he was talking about.

"My witnesses are two dragons. Bid'Daum, whom you know of, and the leader of this afternoon's ambush. His name is," Eragon stopped. "We can call him Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey."


	26. Chapter 26

**Okay, since school starts tomorrow the next (probably super-long to write) chapter might show up on Sunday. It's soooo good to be writing this much! Even if it's not... well. Perfect. (But what writing is?) Reviews still make happy authors. Kudos to those who comply. ;) Shame on me for begging and bribery...**

"You brought not only one supposedly tame dragon, but also a _wild_ dragon to _my_ camp!" the Queen asked exceptionally indignantly.

"Your majesty, as I explained earlier I have a suspicion there will be many dragons at your camp tonight. And unless we can negotiate a cease-fire on both sides, it will probably be the last battle either species fights against the other."

"Eragon, I will allow your implied friends into the camp, but not a single other dragon will receive compassion from me until I verify that what you said is true." The Queen sent a messenger to inform the elves of their visitors.

_Bid'Daum,_ Eragon shouted at the stony mind of his dragon. _We've almost got her convinced. Any sign of an attack? _

_ None so far, but Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey thinks we don't have much time._

_ All right, come here. I need your testimony to convince the Queen._

_ She'd better be convinced,_ Bid'Daum growled. _Because,_ the two dragons landed in front of Eragon and the Queen, warily glancing at the startled elves all around them, _otherwise we're dead meat and so will she be._

"Your majesty," Eragon gestured at his white friend. "Bid'Daum." To himself he added, _Brilliant partner in crime._

_ I heard that, _he grunted.

"And Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey." Eragon gestured at the black dragon.

The Queen said nothing, but observed the two dragons with an awe-struck expression. Granted, there was a noticeable tinge of fright, but Eragon forced himself to ignore it. He offered his hand to Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey, and his mind was barraged with the images and sensory detail that apparently was common dragon speech.

Suddenly, Eragon realized this could be a problem.

_Is this your Queen?_ Eragon interpreted the images.

_Yes._

_ May I speak with her?_

"Your majesty, Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey would like to recall the events of today... but you might not understand it all too clearly." Eragon paused, trying to think of a way to solve this problem.

_Let Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey say what he has to say, and I will reinforce it in a tongue she can understand,_ Bid'Daum suggested.

"But if you watch carefully, you will see what he means, and whatever you don't understand, Bid'Daum will explain."

The Queen approached Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey almost reverently. The dragon pulled his muzzle away from Eragon's hand, and the Queen offered her hand. Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey put his nose to her hand, and Eragon could tell that he had already begun his narrative just by watching the Queen expression.

It was comical.

Well, it would have been, under different circumstances. But right now, he needed her to understand this.

Because otherwise, Bid'Daum was right. They were all dead meat. Which, Eragon reflected, was a repetitive statement, because in order to have meat the animal -

Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey lifted his head and the Queen stumbled back a few steps, a little disoriented. She turned to Eragon and mouthed "I barely understood." Eragon gestured for her to repeat the event with Bid'Daum.

This time the surprise and comprehension showed with less clarity, but Eragon could this time sense the revelation going on in the Queen's mind. Dragons couldn't afford another battle. Elves couldn't afford another battle. Their mutual problem and interests could be resolved peacefully, if only sort of and, for now, temporarily.

But the species were closer to a solution now than they had been at the bank of another river so many moons ago, and that thought alone gave Eragon immeasurable hope. And for once... he didn't care who that lady was. Because she had been right.

Well, mostly.

_Hellooo? Anybody in there?_ Bid'Daum. Wait, where -

"Eragon, how nice of you to rejoin us." The Queen grabbed his elbow and led him away a distance. "Please tell your friends to wait outside until we come to a decision."

"Your majesty, we don't have time to come to a decision," Eragon, shook off the Queen's hand. "We have to act _now._"

_We're going to wait right here,_ Bid'Daum growled.

"Eragon," the Queen began menacingly, glancing at Bid'Daum. "Those are _dragons_ we're talking about. I'm not going to stop everything and beg for mercy from _them_."

"Then we'll all die!" Eragon shouted, his voice echoing through the woods. "We have to take a _risk_, your majesty!"

"Pipe down." The Queen crossed her arms. "You're telling me that I have two choices. I can fight the dragons, and die for sure. Or I can try and make peace with the dragons, and just maybe die."

Eragon nodded.

"You say there's no fighting chance for us."

Eragon nodded again. "And they're coming soon," he added.

"We'll know about them ahead of time. I have scouts posted several layers away from the camp," the Queen grabbed Eragon and pulled him after her.

"And what if the dragons killed the scouts?" Eragon spoke quietly. "They could still come upon us and we will all DIE!" The Queen didn't stop.

"Making peace with the dragons is impossible – "

"It didn't work before, but we didn't have a dragon willing to stand in our midst and _not _eat us. It's possible now."

"Eragon, look at me and give me one logical reason to put the fate of the elves in your plan." The Queen's eyes burned dangerously, and her hand was on her sword.

"I've thrown logic to the _wind_with this plan, I can't give you a reason I can only tell you if we don't act _now, _if we don't take a _risk_, then we _will_ die, and I'm not _ready to die._"

_Neither are we, by the way,_ Bid'Daum interjected, stretching his head in between the Queen and Eragon. The Queen nearly fell back in fright, and a dozen elves had nocked and pulled back their bows at Bid'Daum. But they did not fire. _And Eragon's right about the scouts. They're not hardly fast enough to outrun a dragon ambush._

The Queen's face fell, and she got to her feet, gesturing for the elves to put their bows down.

"Do you _promise_ you will do everything in your power to keep our race alive?" she asked Bid'Daum. Her eyes were downcast, gazing at the grass underfoot.

_I promise I will do everything to bring peace to our species,_ Bid'Daum twisted his head so he could stare at the Queen with his big white eye. _Without extinction being an option._

The Queen sighed a sad, heavy, tired sigh, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again there was a spark of determination about them.

"For our people then, we'll take this risk. Soldiers," she snapped at the elves in the trees around them. "Keep watch, be cautious, and if the dragons attack, do not return the courtesy. Avoid their fire, and don't return it. Now report back to your stations!" There was a buzz of activity and murmurs of agreement and disagreement from all sides.

"We need to strategize with your friends here quickly, from what Bid'Daum says, there's going to be an ambush here tonight."

_Tonight? Can't they wait till the morning?_ Eragon asked Bid'Daum.

_Chances are good we'll only be able to settle the dragons by the time morning arrives. Then you'll have a lot of explaining and proposing to do. Which, by the way, I think the Queen is going to delegate you to be doing the talking to all of the dragons as the elvish ambassador._

Eragon smirked. Ambassador? He'd been but a lowly scout – and battle tactician, granted – but a couple of months ago. Now he was going to be the first ever elvish ambassador to the dragons!

_I said I _think._ Also, you've been gone for just over a year, not a couple of months. And you are technically still a hero, first - _

"Eragon! Hurry up!" He hadn't noticed the Queen's desk being put in front of the dragons, or the fact that she had commanded him to sit next to her. What he did notice at that moment, was that he was either acting really slow (how many different times had he been told to hurry up in the past 6 hours?) or everyone else was trying to go too fast. He followed the command, however, and the first elvish-dragon relations began to take shape.

Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey suggested that the elves all lay their weapons in one big pile in the center of the glade and have their hands up as a sign of submission. The Queen suggested that the elves hide while Eragon, Bid'Daum and Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey attempted to explain the situation, and then come out only when a peace treaty was to be made. Bid'Daum explained that he would not propose tactics, but would serve as a translator for the races, and Eragon listened without really listening until the Queen kicked his shins. Then he pointed out to Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey that the elves were too proud and scared to wait without their weapons with their hands up and he explained to the Queen that the dragons would perceive the hiding elves as an ambush, and Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey and Bid'Daum would be considered traitors.

"What then do you suggest?" the Queen growled tiredly.

"We have to do it the way we did it this morning," he muttered, rubbing his temples. While he had been listening but not really listening, he had been thinking about his poor stomach, and those thoughts were continuously invading his train of thinking. "The elves have to be the first to be eaten though. I mean – the elves have to be the first to submit. You know, put down their weapons, etc."

_It'll be almost impossible to stop all of the dragons from attacking at the same time, especially if there's an army of them,_ Bid'Daum said.

"We need more friendly dragons," Eragon grunted. Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey snapped his jaws aversely at this.

_Do I look like a _friendly_ dragon to you, boy!_

_He means we need more dragons that believe this battle isn't worth it if it can be avoided to convince the attacking dragons._ Bid'Daum glared at Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey until his scales had smoothed out. _If we could convince the dragons to land peaceably on one side of the river with the elves on the other, we could probably settle things the way Eragon suggests._

"But how do we bring that about?" the Queen sighed, but Eragon and the dragons froze.

_Right on time,_ Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey growled. _Make sure the elves don't provoke us, Eragon-boy._ Almost as one, Bid'Daum and Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey turned and leaped into the sky, roaring thunderously. The Queen had looked down for just a moment, but looked up when she heard the roar.

"What happened?" Eragon ignored her question and shouted instructions to all of the elves on duty.

"Don't fire! Avoid injury but DON'T ATTACK!" He grabbed the Queen and dragged her into a clump of trees, away from the clearing so they wouldn't be such easy targets. He hoped the elves had listened, but more importantly obeyed.

"We're under attack!" the Queen exclaimed, realization dawning upon her as the dragons set fire to the tree-tops.

Eragon had to bite back a sarcastic comment that would have humiliated himself in front of the Queen, and with a deep breath attempted to make himself useful.

"Your majesty, I recommend reinforcing your command to play the pacifist." He couldn't help Bid'Daum and Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey in the air at this point. But he could keep the elves from accidentally making another huge mistake.

The burning trees cast up a smoke screen between the elves and the sky, giving dragons perfect cover if they were going to pour down some fire, but it also helped the elves see the silhouettes of the approaching dragons and appropriately take cover. Not to mention the flames also aided their vision down below on the ground.

It was a bleak vision, though. The shadows were cast long and the flickering flames made it difficult to tell where one was going, let alone what was happening. But, to Eragon's relief, all of the elves he could see were following orders – evading attack without returning it.

A blast of fire ran down the middle of the clearing they had been sitting in moments ago, and the desk shattered from the pressure of the spewing flames. Eragon sighed and leaped back against a tree as another blast of fire landed in front of him.

_Watch it!_ He shouted at the dragon, but it had already swooped away. Eragon shook his head, following the Queen as they avoided landing dragons. _Did I seriously just threaten a dragon?_

A string of roars sounded about the camp, and in Eragon's mind the whole forest seemed to go silent. He reached out cautiously. _Bid'Daum?_

_ We're going to wait on the other side of the river until daybreak. A council is beginning – if we're going to attack, it won't be until morning._

_ Were any of the dragons injured by the elves?_

_ No. And that fact has already generated some good reputation for Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey and I. Gather your people, and be prepared to flee._

_ Very well. I'll let the Queen know._

_ Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey will not question our leader once a decision is made, though at this point he is advocating your suggestion. Be careful, and make sure you pick up the Regiment Eliana is in and any others in the surrounding area as you leave. _

A chill ran down Eragon's spine as his throat ran dry and his stomach twisted, and he hoped to a God he didn't believe in that it wouldn't come to that. So many had already fallen, and things were just starting to look up...

_Yeah,_ he said instead. _Believe me, I won't forget._


	27. Chapter 27 The End

**I'm going to be honest... I didn't have time to do all the proper research to make sure this is accurate. So it's not going to be booktastically proper. But it should make sense. And when I do have time (haha! Like I'll have time till Winter break...) I will fix it, and make it right. I'd like to give a shout out to those who DID review – you know who you are – this last chapter is dedicated to you, because you took twenty seconds and told me you valued the story. I hope it ends satisfactorily! And thus... enjoy! :)**

It took all of two minutes to find the Queen and relay the information, but the rest of the night to prepare the elves for escape. Messengers were sent to inform the general population of the predicament, and the sick and wounded were going to start evacuating as soon as the messengers reached them.

Eragon's heart was somewhat put to rest by these decisions, and by the time the stars were slowly disappearing his stomach couldn't complain and his mind had been rested. He sat on the edge of the riverbank, gazing blindly into the mists of morning and wondering what today's fate would be.

A disturbance behind Eragon told him he was not alone this morning. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see what was up but was soon on his feet in astonishment.

"Eliana, what in the world are you doing here?"

"Being rebellious because I hate running away when something interesting is just about to happen." She smirked at him. "And no matter what you or Bid'Daum or the Queen say, I am _not_ leaving."

Eragon's stupefied expression did not quite leave him before the Queen could catch sight of it, and the Queen's stupefied expression lasted but a moment longer than his after she caught sight of Eliana.

"Eliana, are you _mad!_ What on earth are you doing here?"

Eliana just laughed and repeated what she had told Eragon, the same determined smirk etched into her face. "Besides – you might need my expertise in understanding dragon."

"I'm sure we will need your expertise," Eragon admitted. "You just... shouldn't be standing in front of me right now."

"You got squashed by a dragon, or so _I_ heard," the Queen huffed. "Squished by a dragon is _no_ fit condition to be running around in."

Eliana cast a meaningful glare at Eragon who turned quite red and hurriedly explained to the Queen that his healing spell must have been _much_ more potent than he had anticipated and (with a mental prod from Eliana) added that she was probably in a very good condition to be negotiating with dragons and that all she had _really_ needed most was a little bit of sleep, which seemed to have done her plenty of good seeing as she had clearly gotten enough of it.

The Queen glared suspiciously at the two of them for a long moment before she sighed and nodded.

"All right. I didn't realize you spoke dragon, but we can definitely use your abilities today. We're also probably going down today, but in the unlikely event that we all survive, I suppose I'll have to thank you and make you explain how you came to speak dragon so fluently that you impose yourself upon our only known dragonese speaker," the Queen had much more to say, but neither Eliana nor Eragon were listening anymore, because they had both been greeted by Bid'Daum.

_Eliana! It is good to know Eragon is so much more proficient at healing spells than he expected. _Bid'Daum chuckled and Eliana smirked as Eragon turned bright red again. _Listen, the dragons would like two elvish representatives to come and discuss terms. Not that we'll agree to them or anything, but at this point we're willing to discuss._

_ All right. We'll be right over,_ Eliana responded, ending the conversation.

_Hey! Shouldn't we ask the Queen first? And mightn't _she_ want to come along?_

Eliana rolled her eyes, and sidled up next to Eragon, slowly pulling him away as the Queen rambled on.

"We'll just be across the river negotiating if you need us," she told the Queen. This news set the Queen off on a rather surprised rant that Eliana dragged Eragon from quite hastily.

_She might want to come along, but we can't allow that. She's too valuable._

_ And we aren't?_ Eragon asked indignantly.

_ We can take care of ourselves. Well, at least you can,_ Eliana shook her head with a playful grin and she pushed Eragon into a canoe. _I kinda got squashed by a dragon last time I was left to take care of myself._

_ Hmm. Yeah, I can see where some of your self-doubts might come from. _Eragon grabbed a paddle and with a sigh, they set off across the river. It was only about three-hundred meters across, so their trip was a quick one. _I'm more worried about the dragons deciding to attack the elves and nobody being ready._

_ Eragon. Since when have elves been _ready_ for a dragon attack?_

_ Since last night!_ _They're ready to escape!_

_ Then they'll escape. Relax. What's the worst that could happen?_

_ We could die a gruesome death. Bid'Daum could eat you. The dragons could tie us up and make us watch the elvish nation get annihilated..._

_ I'M NOT GOING TO EAT ANYBODY,_ Bid'Daum roared. _Now hurry up._ _You're almost there..._

_ Thanks Bid'Daum, I think we can make it on our own,_ Eliana snorted. Her smirk had vanished though, and Eragon saw the slightest tilt of worry in her eyebrows. Eragon pulled the boat up the bank, tossed in the paddle and grabbed her hand as he gently dragged her behind him.

They entered a clearing where Bid'Daum, Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey and a mighty golden dragon were seated. They had passed several earthier-hued dragons hiding in the trees, and Eragon thought he could see more of them hiding behind the three visible ones in the clearing.

_Eragon, Eliana, this is our leader,_ Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey rumbled. _You may call him Enemy-Crusher._

"Intimidating names these dragons have," Eliana whispered, squeezing Eragon's hand before dropping her hand to her side. "Makes me wonder if they only will allow us to call them by the most frightening thing they can come up with."

"No kidding." Eragon took a deep breath.

_Greetings, Enemy-Crusher. We have come to determine terms on which a peace agreement can be made. I am Eragon._

_ And I am Eliana._

Enemy-Crusher nodded his great big golden head, and blinked twice._ It is good that you have come. I did not think it possible that elves were clever enough to speak, let alone to us, but Bid'Daum and Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey tell me otherwise._

_ I hope we can communicate well enough to bring about peace for our races,_ Eragon said.

_We're not exactly fluent with this form of speaking, but will try our best,_ Eliana affirmed.

_Why don't you begin by describing your side of this war, and why you think our races can live in peace..._

Eliana and Eragon spent the better half of the next four hours explaining, with some help from Bid'Daum from time to time, what the war had been like for the elves. Eliana described the shame and dismay the elves had had when they discovered the dragons were sentient, Eragon the dread of war and the failure to find a way to communicate, Eliana the desperation to survive and surprisingly enough it was Bid'Daum who presented the most compelling argument as to how and why the two species should co-exist. When they had finished, Eragon inquired for the dragon's side of the story.

_Very well, elf. I shall share my memories... _Eliana and Eragon exchanged glances, then braced their minds for an onslaught of information.

A barrage of emotion and senses came crashing in, flashing so quickly in front of their eyes that they could hardly recognize one image before the next one appeared. A flight over the forest. A blue dragon setting half the forest on fire. Anguish, despair, rage, elvish faces being crushed by golden talons, flaming huts, dying dragons. Plots, plans, pleasures, pains all whipped through their minds at incomprehensible speed. The last image lasted only a half-second longer, but burned itself in Eragons mind – a night when the moon had turned blood red, and a battlefield filled with dead and dying dragons and elves. A chill ran down his spine and his throat went dry as he recognized the battlefield.

_Oh. I guess I can see why you're not incredibly interested in making peace..._ Eliana rubbed her temples, eyes closed, and a small thought about a light headache coming through.

_It seems that we have underestimated your race. If all elves are as well adapted as you two are... _Enemy-Crusher closed his eyes and a low rumbling filled the forest. _It does not then seem wise to continue our battle._

_ All elves at this point in time may not be as... tolerant as we are, _Eliana grimaced. _But as a representative of the race, I assure you that our current mentality can and will be changed._

_ Perhaps we can discuss more on this topic tomorrow. I'd like to meet your leader to finalize most of our terms of peace. I speak for our whole race as a whole when I say that it would take but one mistake to reignite our fury, _Enemy-Crusher opened his eyes again and glared at Eragon and Eliana. _And that would be most unfortunate for all of us._

_ Indeed. We shall meet again soon, then,_ Eragon bowed, and turned to march out of the forest. Eliana followed suit, and trotted to keep up with him.

_Good work, little ones, _Bid'Daum called out as he turned to the rest of the dragons. _This might work after all._

Eragon cast a tired glance at Eliana. She looked like he felt – worn out. Her feet dragged and her shoulders were slumped. It took a joint effort to get the boat into the river, and for a moment Eragon contemplated just floating with it; let the waters decide their fate. But he did no such thing, and instead plopped his paddle in and forced his muscles to function.

They were greeted solemnly by the Queen and a couple of troops, who had the sense to keep all questions at bay until the two dragon-speakers were on land.

"We've sent most of the force away in twos and threes, so that if it comes to worst, few will fall," the Queen explained. "I trust it went well?"

"Quite well, actually," Eragon grinned despite his tiredness.

"I have some misgivings... the dragon leader has requested your presence in the meetings tomorrow, your majesty," Eliana's half-hearted smile was in greater response to Eragon's optimism than to her understanding of the day's proceedings. "We're allowed to call him Enemy-Crusher."

The Queen raised an eyebrow.

"He's a giant golden dragon, quite an understanding fellow." Eragon faded out the rest of the conversation and set to pondering the day's events. He wanted a moment to talk it over with Eliana, but she was busy talking to the Queen.

"They're a very volatile species. I think any of our conventional ideals of peace wouldn't really be effective at all with them. We need to think of a stronger pact than an ordinary treaty." Eliana sighed. "I am of the impression that anything written is meaningless... blood will be needed to seal anything of lasting importance."

The Queen's eyes looked on Eliana with a sad resignation. Eliana's eyes did not meet the Queen's, not even after the group had decided to eat and rest up in a tree top. Eliana sat, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them in a giant hug. The Queen patted Eliana's back, and sat down across from her. Eragon watched without understanding as the silent conversation went on between Eliana and the Queen.

"Eragon, why don't you describe what happened?"

So he did.

Eventually the escort left the three of them alone with a plateful of berries, bread and mushrooms. Eliana rested her chin upon her knees and sat gazing into space while Eragon talked, and even after the conversation had melted into silence her focus did not return and neither did she say anything.

"Eragon do you agree with Eliana's summary of the dragons? Are they as volatile as she suggests?" the Queen asked after a long interval.

"They're wild, your majesty. What can we expect?"

"More wars?" the Queen muttered. "Let me rephrase: can we negotiate a lasting peace with them? Preferably without any more bloodshed."

Eragon thought for a long minute. After reviewing Enemy-Crusher's memories, he could only come to the same conclusion Eliana must have – any peace that they could negotiate wouldn't be long lasting. The dragons would not be very forgiving of the elves, and the elves, it had to be admitted, were extremely prejudiced against the creatures. One misunderstanding, and the whole war could be repeated with even greater consequences.

"At our current understanding of them... I don't think so. But I am not going to let that be the final answer, we _can_ coexist with them, we _can_ trust them."

"You and I can, Eragon," Eliana whispered. "I don't think the general population can."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Eragon asked irritably.

For the longest moment, Eliana made no reply.

"I don't know how to explain it, Eragon," she began. Then with a sigh, "As Logan's brother though, I think I have to die."

Eragon sat, dumbstruck.

"What?" he whispered. Eliana's eyes were staring into space again.

_That can't be the answer,_ he told her.

_Then what do you suggest we do!_ She growled, eyes flashing.

_Something else. Anything else. _They stared at one another, and now Eragon understood the silent signals. _Eliana, _you_ shouldn't have to pay the price for what someone else did. Even if that someone else is related to you._

_ What if I was the one that challenged him to do it?_

Eragon faltered, his mind whirring.

_I didn't actually, if that helps any. But if my sacrifice buys peace, then that's all I need to know. I'll do it. I'm not... I'm not afraid of dying._

Eragon steeled his voice at the lie.

_We _can_ find another way _before_ the elves do something stupid again. I _will_ find __another way._

_ Eragon, you've spent a year finding Bid'Daum. We don't have the time or resources for anything else._

_ Mother necessity breeds brilliant solutions. We'll _find_ a way. Have you given up so quickly?_

Eliana's eyes softened.

_Well, I do have some other ideas, but they're impossible._

_ I don't believe in impossible,_ Eragon snapped. _Share. Now._

Eliana shook her head and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

_Don't tempt me, dragon-boy._

_ That's one of your ideas, isn't it? Merging us with them? _Eragon imagined himself with scales and wings, flying over the forest like a dragon, but walking on two legs. _Okay, _that_ is impossible._

_ Thought you didn't believe in impossible._

_ But what if - _

"I'm sure something very important is going on between the two of you, but I am afraid I have to demand that you divulge. I am _not_ going to let you have the reins this time, Eragon. I get the final say on your ideas," the Queen interrupted Eragon's thought with a raised eyebrow and folded arms.

Now Eliana was smirking at Eragon, who took a look at the Queen and then decided to ignore her.

_What if we merged minds? What if we magically made our species bound to one another, so that we needed one another? What if - _

"Eragon!" the Queen snapped. "Stop that!"

"It would take the strength of ten-thousand elves to accomplish that." Eliana cut Eragon off before he repeated his mistake. "Plus there's no guarantee that the dragons would consent."

The Queen forced a casual expression, satisfied that at least Eliana was obeying her.

"If we could have done it on our own we would have – but we need the dragon's strength to sustain the spell – it would be like singing to the trees, except we sing to ourselves!" Eragon's excitement was starting to show. "We could select an elite group of elves and dragons that would keep the peace between the two races after we merged, just to be on the safe side. A symbiotic empire could emerge, and we would - "

"Have saved the day," Eliana smiled now, a grateful smile.

"Not to mention a bunch of – but specifically one – individuals," Eragon was grinning elatedly.

"All right. What's the plan?" the Queen interjected before Eragon could launch into more visions of his planned future.

Eliana further interrupted Eragon by explaining the whole idea, and Eragon finally burst in to describe what the Queen, and all of the elves for that matter, would need to do.

"Eragon, are you crazy!" the Queen asked when he was finished.

"Absolutely. I thought we'd already established that."

Eliana stifled a snicker as the Queen glared furiously at Eragon. He said nothing, and neither did she, and the more the Queen thought about it, the more she came to realize that despite the obviously insanity of the venture, it might be the best way. Especially considering that the proposition was coming from the only two experts in the field.

"Look at me. Both of you," she said at length. "Do you honestly think this is the best we can come up with?"

Eragon and Eliana both nodded in unison, Eliana hardly able to contain a smile.

"May all the gods known and unknown help me, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," the Queen muttered to herself. "Very well. I will ask Enemy-Crusher tomorrow. If they agree, I will summon the elves here to participate. Eragon, if this turns out to be a mistake I can assure your name will go down in infamy. You two are dismissed."

Eragon leaped up and bounded over to the door, only to wait while Eliana untangled herself and lightly stepped to the exit. They left together, Eragon practically bursting with energy.

"Hah! My name will go down in infamy!" he laughed, leaping off of the stairs and landing with a roll into the grass. He sat under a tree and pondered that for a moment as Eliana made it down the rest of the stairs. "Wait... infamy is being famous for a bad thing, isn't it?"

"Hate to break it to you, bird-brain, but yes. Yes it is." Eliana smiled gently. Eragon leaned back against the tree with a smile.

"Oh well, at least they'll remember me!" he laughed some more, eliciting a greater grin to crack Eliana's face.

"I'm glad you're in such a good mood," she came to a stop next to the tree Eragon was leaning against. "But remember," she wagged a finger. "It's not over yet."

"Imagine how barmy I will be when it _is_ over!" Eragon giggled. Eliana cocked her head and gave him a one-over. Then she too laughed, and tousled his hair.

"C'mon, you maniac. Let's give the Queen's tree some peace."

"Ooookay," he sighed with a grin, and hopped to his feet. "We might as well, seeing as I have plenty of questions for _you_."

"Wonderful," Eliana groaned. But Eragon's contagious mood did not, even the slightest, lessen, and soon Eliana found herself grinning in spite of everything. Eragon led them to the bank of the river, where he took off his shoes and dipped his feet into the water. Eliana kept her shoes on and sat cross-legged next to him. A moment of silence passed before Eragon quietly inquired,

"What _did_ happen to start this war?"

He then said nothing as Eliana reluctantly began narrating a tale of a brother and a sister who were inseparably incredible at getting themselves into trouble. The brother would have an idea, the sister would plan a way to fulfill the idea, and together they would flesh out pranks of all shapes and sizes.

Then one day the brother had the idea to hunt down a dragon – surely the thrill of the chase would be as exhilarating as any prank, he said. But the sister rejected this idea, because it was _not_ a harmless prank – this was actually taking a life, even if at that time it was "just" the life of a dragon. The brother then rejected the sister and began plotting out a plan on his own.

The sister watched anxiously as the plan took form, but stayed at home when the brother invited her along. Angrily, the brother set out and his plan became a reality – a day later he had come home carrying blue scales, white talons and dozens of white teeth. The brother bragged heavily of his accomplishment, while the sister grew more anxious by the hour, almost to the point of sickness.

And that was when some elvish scouts chanced to pass through the village, warning the villagers that there was strange dragon activity and that they recommended everybody leave for the capital, just to be safe. The sister begged and pleaded for the family to go, but they all just laughed at her.

So she had gone alone.

"And the rest... is history."

Eliana closed her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest again, and Eragon watched the river for a long moment. The sound of cascading water framed the harsh picture Eliana had painted with serenity that seemed out of place. Doubt wormed into Eragon's mind, causing him to question the plan to unite the species. What if they failed, and his name went down in history alongside Logan's?

"Did anyone else know about this?" he asked eventually, pulling his feet up from the blue liquid below.

"The Queen is the only one left. My first regiment... they knew. But they all fell in Do or Die."

"I see," Eragon sat for a moment, staring into space. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Eliana murmured. Then she sighed. "For listening, I mean. And... and not judging."

Eragon put his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah," was all he said.

X X X X X X X X X X X

He didn't sleep well that night. There was too much that had gone on, too much at stake, Eragon couldn't pinpoint it, but he just couldn't find rest.

_I'm losing my mind,_ he reflected, tossing and turning. No good. He contemplated going back down to the river, but he'd sat along its banks so much already. Then there was the matter of Eliana's relations. It had never ever occurred to him that she could possibly, not even remotely be related. But there you had it. Family had ceased to be important to him the day they had died, which had been relatively early on in the war. But...

It meant so much more now.

He got up early, just to save himself the bother of lying in bed, and ate a hearty breakfast, hoping the sugars would keep his mind functioning fairly enough to keep the peace talks smooth. And he hoped, more than anything else, that today peace was found.

_Bid'Daum?_ He reached out, sighing tiredly.

_Hello, little one. What's the matter?_

_ A couple of things. _Eragon wasn't sure if he had the rights to share Eliana's past, and thus pushed into the other bother in his head. _We came up with an idea last night, something that would unite our species to the point where war would be most ridiculous._

_ Oh?_

Eragon explained. While he did, the few elves that were around awoke and came out to join him in the clearing. When he was done, Bid'Daum's mind was also buzzing.

_So the Queen is going to propose this to Enemy-Crusher today?_

_ Yes._

_ Eragon, all I can say is that this plan is insane. So much so, that it might just work..._

The weeks went by in a blur after that. All of the pieces of the puzzle were clicking into place – Enemy-Crusher and the entire dragon assembly agreed to try Eragon's crazy idea. The Queen had her best magicians work on the lyrics for the spell. Dragons of all colors and sizes came up and introduced themselves to Eragon, and they started calling him _First-One_. Elves began trickling into the camp across the river, in all of the phases of a river – stream, brook, river, meandering river, delta, ocean. Their numbers dismayed Eragon; there were so few. Finally though, they had all arrived.

It was six years almost to the day since the war had begun when the elves and dragons met together on one side of the river. To Eragon, the air seemed thick with expectation, it was like swimming through choppy waters just by walking ten feet!

"Would you look at that," Eliana smirked. Two small elves cowered behind their mother as the dragons began landing on the outskirts of the camp, but soon they poked their heads out and slowly approached the reptiles. Mercifully the dragons were exceptionally patient on that day, and allowed their tails to be pulled and their scales to be ruffled.

Enemy-Crusher landed quite blatantly in the middle of the clearing, just in front of the Queen.

_Today we make peace._ He bowed his head. _My people are ready._

_ As are ours._ The Queen nodded to her head magician. The whole forest seemed to go silent as each member of the group focused their minds to meld with all. The mental chain grew, the dragons to provide the strength, the elves to provide the framework.

A lone voice began to chant. Then two. Then a chorus resounded, growing in speed and volume. Eragon closed his eyes, the words burned into his mind, and he added his voice to the group. Underneath the rhythmic cadence of the spell the dragons began rumbling with their rich baritones.

Eragon began to lose his sense of singleness, he was so completely focused on the words of the spell and the hundreds of minds brushing against his. _Is this what it's like to be a cell of an organism?_ he wondered, struggling to do his part to the best of his ability.

Time passed unchecked, and on went the song of the species. With each syllable uttered, Eragon became more and more convinced that peace would be achieved, that the two groups really would become inseparable. Also, he began to notice a change in himself – not an emotional or spiritual change, but physical ones. And when he opened his eyes, he could literally see a slow metamorphosis of the elves around him. In his mind, he sensed a change in the dragon's intellects. He closed his eyes again after almost mispronouncing a word, and ignoring the changes going on around him he brought his all back into the soup of minds. But eventually the last words were spoken, and a hush fell upon the gathering. Eragon opened his eyes slowly, expectantly.

Almost everything looked the same, but somehow he felt different, as though the organic tissue inside of him had been regenerated. And he could even see a physical change in the elves, a most natural sense of grace and poise wafted invisibly off of his comrades, and he could just _feel_ that he too, was more able to move fluidly. A murmur had begun rising through the crowd, and the dragons also started slowly becoming vocal.

Eragon had a suspicion, and looked up to see if he could find a way to test it. A branch, impossible to reach out here in the middle of a clearing, hung out an easy fifteen feet above him. Realizing that he couldn't perform his test in secret, he sighed, tensed his muscles, and leaped as high as he could with outstretched hands.

And caught the branch.

Now, if he had ran and jumped off of a stump, this would be nothing. But he didn't. And the whole elvish assembly knew that.

And the whole elvish assembly began testing their capabilities. Leaps, bounds, races; the whole clearing was filled with laughter. Some elves began talking animatedly with dragons, as though they could understand everything that Eragon had strived for a year to comprehend, and the dragons rumbled... happily.

Eragon dropped to the ground and went looking for the Queen, or maybe Eliana. He wasn't ready to talk to Bid'Daum yet, or Enemy-Crusher, or Hunter-of-Mighty-Prey, but... Yes, there she was! He surreptitiously snuck up behind Eliana, and grabbed her elbow, pulling her towards the trees where fewer elves were joyously exploring.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong. I just want your thoughts on what just happened." Eragon shrugged. "And I'm thirsty." Eliana rolled her eyes.

"I'm not getting you a drink. But I think you successfully ended a war," she added with a small smirk.

"Yeah..." Eragon tried to let it sink in. But it wouldn't, it couldn't.

_Eragon... where are you?_ It was Bid'Daum. _A dragon called Older-Than-All wants to speak with you._

_ Can I bring a friend?_ Eragon asked rhetorically, beckoning for Eliana to follow him. She cocked her head, and followed.

_Whatever. We're waiting over here,_ Bid'Daum sent Eragon a picture, and Eragon adjusted his direction accordingly.

"Eragon...?"

"Sorry," Eragon turned while walking. "A dragon called Older-Than-All wants to talk with me."

"And I'm coming along because...?" Eliana increased her pace so that she was walking abreast to him.

"This is as much your doing as it is mine, I guess." Eragon paused. "Does there have to be a reason?" Eliana shrugged.

They saw Bid'Daum sitting next to a ginormous red dragon. Eragon's step wavered, but he moved forwards anyways. Eliana slowed until she was a half-step behind him.

_Here I am,_ Eragon bowed his head.

_Greetings, Eragon,_ a tired voice filled Eragon's head. The red dragon snaked out his head towards Eliana. _Welcome, Hurt-but-Healing-One._ Eragon tried to hide his surprise at the name, but he sensed that Eliana was every bit as surprised as he.

_Before I pass into the void, Eragon, and Hurt-but-Healing-One, I wish to bestow upon you the blessing of the dragons. You are to pass the words to the rest of your people on our behalf._

_ Thank you, Older-Than-All._ Eragon hesitated before he added an _elda _to the end of the title.

Older-Than-All nodded his head, closing his red eyes. A vibration pulsed through the forest, coming from his mighty chest.

_May our peoples never repeat the bloodshed of these times. I bestow upon you understanding and wisdom, a fire in your belly and food fueling your steps together. May good fortune rule over you, peace live in your hearts, and the stars watch over you as you redeem this war-torn time._ The eyes popped open. _That is all._

Eliana nodded solemnly.

_Thank you._

Bid'Daum fluttered his wings, and stepped in front of the two elves, lowering his head until he saw them eye-to-eye.

_Well done, young-ones. I think your Queen is searching for you..._ Eliana stiffened, and Eragon whirled around. _Not to reprimand you, silly!_

Eragon and Eliana exchanged glances and started cracking up.

"Let's sneak up on her and try to scare the living daylights out of her!" Eliana suggested, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Are you – oh, yes, I suppose you are. Well – I guess she's _only_ the Queen," Eragon laughed and beckoned for Eliana to lead the way.

_"We can contact her like a dragon and then pop in front of her - "_

_ "With a bucket of water!"_

_ "Yes! And we can make her trip into some mud - "_

_ "And tell her we were just testing her reflexes!"_

_ "Which have clearly been dulled by a lack of involvement in the conflict!"_

Eragon grinned, watching Eliana cautiously. There was something different now, something that didn't have anything to do with the magic of the dragons. It was something about her, about the way she smiled. Or maybe it was something about him, something inside that had just clicked. Could this be what real life was like? Where two rebellious friends spent all of their time together becoming best friends?

He hoped so.

Epilogue:

Eragon and Bid'Daum eventually convinced the rest of the dragons and elves of the validity of Eragon's 'ambassador of the species' idea, and the Riders were born. Each year the dragons would give the elves an egg or two, and the elves would line up, hoping the egg would choose them. To Eragon's delight, the first dragon hatchling hatched for Eliana. Together with the advice of the Queen and Enemy-Crusher (who later told them his name was Strong-Warrior,) the Riders played the ambassador less and became peace-keepers between all of the races, adding in the humans when they came. Some argued that was their biggest mistake, others said it was their greatest achievement.

Eragon cared not. Peace was restored to his home, and for all of the lives that had been lost, a new world grew to replace them. Time faded their memory, and time revealed that the magic of the dragons allowed elves now to live for centuries. A great celebration commenced every hundred years, known as the Agaeti Blodhren, commemorating the unification of the dragons and the elves. Thus, for centuries to come Eragon (with the help of Eliana and Bid'Daum) would tell little elflings and the few dragon hatchlings all about the great war, and why the Riders existed at each and every celebration.

~_The End_


End file.
